


The Triwizard Redux

by appleofmysirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2020-07-25 12:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 46,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20026087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleofmysirius/pseuds/appleofmysirius
Summary: Hermione Granger returns to Hogwarts School for a re-do of her Eighth Year after the War. What was meant to be an uneventful year for her to relax and focus on her N.E.W.T.S turns into a hellride as she offers to help Draco Malfoy, who had been unwittingly thrown against his will into the Triwizard Tournament Hogwarts was hosting to make amends.As she helps him conquer the tasks, she will realise that there is more to Draco Malfoy than the bigoted bully she knew in school. Hermione discovers that Draco and she have much more in common than anyone thought possible and that maybe, possibly she has space in her heart for arrogant, pompous blonds.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i've literally been into harry potter (and by extension dramione) forever but i finally decided to write a fic abt it lmao. this fic will contain NO ron bashing ok,, i love ronald, he is my baby. ALSO, hermione is meant to be racially ambiguous in this fic, kind of like she was in canon
> 
> i've always been curious abt the triwizard tournament... also IGNORE the fact that the tournament was allegedly scrapped (bc of cedric...)! we're just gonna pretend that they didn't decide to scrap the tournament for the sake of the fic. 
> 
> lastly, i've always wondered about how the malfoys/the golden trio were treated after the war bc we know the malfoys basically got off scot free?? so, this fic is also me exploring my headcanons for this. also ignore the ugly title :)

Hermione took her seat in the Great Hall, next to Ginny, for the Welcoming Feast. If she closed her eyes and tried really hard, she could pretend she was actually in her 7th year. She would have just returned from her summer holidays, where she would have gone on a trip with her parents, and spent time with Ron and Harry at the Burrow. 

Instead, she felt like she was trying to play catch-up for a year that just slipped under her feet. She was proud of her efforts during the war, and she knew she didn’t regret them, but sometimes she wondered if it was selfish to let someone else fight the battle. She tried to brush those thoughts aside and focus on the year ahead. She came back to school to earn her N.E.W.T.S., while Harry and Ron would join the Auror training programme when it opened in a month. 

So much had changed since she had last been in the school as a student. The changes in faculty being the most obvious, and the change in the atmosphere of the school being the most omnipresent. The new Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, took to the podium and began her speech, as was tradition, following the sorting of the First Years. 

Hermione turned to the Headmistress with rapt attention; Professor McGonagall was a welcome constant in her life. 

“-we will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year. The other schools have blessed our school with the opportunity to host it again. You would be prudent to appreciate the opportunity and to make a genuine effort at international magical cooperation,” Professor McGonagall stressed. Then she smiled knowingly, announcing that once again, only of-age witches and wizards would be allowed in the tournament. 

Hermione’s lips tightened with displeasure. The last Triwizard Tournament, had not only brought about the whole mess of the war, but it was traumatic enough for the other competitors, who were of-age, let alone Harry. She couldn’t understand why the Headmistress would want Hogwarts to hold it again, nor why other schools would be willing to come to Britain. 

“The other schools will be arriving tomorrow. A new Triwizard Cup will be placed outside the Hall. Write your name on a piece of parchment and throw it inside. You will have until the end of the week to submit your names.” Professor McGonagall explained. 

“I think I might try my luck,” said Neville shyly, seated across Hermione. Turning her head to focus on him, Hermione smiled and patted his hand. She wanted to show support for Neville, proud of his newfound surge in self-confidence. However, she felt dread in the pit of her stomach for whoever had to represent Hogwarts in the tournament. Why couldn’t they just be allowed to rest? 

“Good luck, Neville,” she said. She heard Ginny sighing.

“What do you reckon some crazy thing is going to happen this time?” Ginny smiled tiredly. Hermione frowned. She longed for a year of normalcy in the one place that still felt like home to her- having the tournament could throw a wrench in those plans. 

“Hey,” said Ginny, trying to grab Hermione’s attention, “Do you think Krum’s gonna show?” 

“He graduated,” Hermione reminded her. Ginny deflated comically. 

“Aren’t you dating Harry? Why are you so excited about Viktor?” Parvati asked, leaning over to talk to Hermione and Ginny. 

Ginny flicked her nose gently, “Doesn’t mean I can’t look. Besides, if he hears Hermione is around, he might just peep back in!” 

“Gin-” Hermione started. 

“He showed up at my brother Bill’s wedding.  _ And _ , he was getting cosy with Hermione before Ron showed up,” Ginny mock-whispered to Parvati conspiratorially. Parvati gasped and nudged Hermione, who sighed and buried her face in her hands for a moment before smiling at Ginny and Parvati. Neville shot her a sympathetic smile. 

“I’m glad you guys haven’t changed.” Parvati and Ginny grinned at her. 

“But,” she stressed, eager to nip this topic of conversation in the bud, “Viktor and I aren’t a thing. Everything is way too complicated now with Ron and the new school year and  _ everything else _ for me to even consider Viktor as more than a friend.”

Sensing that her explanation would only invite more questions, Hermione forged on. “I would very much like for us to drop this topic of conversation.”

Ginny and Parvati complied, although both sported matching disappointed expressions. Neville hid a smile behind his hand. The quartet continued their conversation through dinner, talking about everything from classes to Neville’s new haircut. 

* * *

The day after the Welcome Feast brought the arrival of the other schools. The simple excitement of seeing the foreign students brought a slightly energetic atmosphere to dinner that night. 

The arrival of Beauxbatons was much like the last time, with many of the Hogwarts boys tripping over themselves to get a glimpse of the girls’ performance. Durmstrang entered powerfully, but someone in their party caught Hermione’s eye. 

“What’s Viktor doing here?” Hermione wondered aloud. He appeared to be the only non-student with the Durmstrang party, their Headmaster Karkaroff from last time, seemingly absent. Viktor took a seat next to Madame Maxime, and scanned the room for Hermione. He smiled softly when he saw her, causing a light flush to spread across her cheeks. Ginny nudged her softly before turning in her seat to face Headmistress McGonagall. 

“We welcome the wonderful students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, as well as their teachers! The triwizard tournament is all about fostering strong relations between the next generation of our international magical communities.” McGonagall said, delving into her speech. 

“I wonder who our champion will be this time?” Parvati said. There weren’t many students returning from Hermione’s batch, so they were stuck into the same classes with Ginny’s batch. The Hogwarts champion would have to be selected from the combined 7th year batch. Even without Harry in the line of fire this time, it would very likely be someone Hermione knew risking their life for the glory of the school. She hadn’t liked the tournament the first time around, and she wouldn’t this time, either. 

As Professor McGonagall finished her speech, a man wearing robes and a ministry badge wheeled in a large platform into the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall waved her wand and the Triwizard Cup appeared, a blazing blue fire burning from inside of it. 

“You shall write your name on a piece of parchment and throw it inside. Best of luck to all students, but only those who are of-age!” Warned Professor McGonagall. Dinner passed with the constant murmur of a mixture of emotions felt by the Hogwarts’ student body- excitement, jealousy, resignation and anger. 

Hermione had already prepared to steer clear of the tournament, aching for an unhappening 7th Year where she could just study and plan her future. While being Head Girl was once something the looked forward to, she was relieved the Professor McGonagall hadn’t even asked her. She had picked 2 students from Ginny’s year to be the heads. 

As Hermione cut into her chicken, she tuned into a conversation between Ginny and Neville. 

“Well, I’ve still got a week to decide, Ginny. Now that I remember what happened last time, I’m not so sure anymore.” 

“Chicken!” Teased Ginny. Neville pouted and Ginny and Hermione giggled. 

“It’s good that you’re thinking about it Neville, no matter what Ginny says,” Hermione sobered, poking Ginny in the ribs. “I shudder to think what they’ll come up with this year.” 

“I wonder who else our school champion could be though?” Ginny said. 

“I don’t care,” Hermione replied after swallowing her potatoes. “I’m not going to bother with that wretched tournament.” Ginny didn’t press the issue any further, discussing topics like their first Hogsmeade Visit and their classes that would start tomorrow. 

* * *

Classes for Hermione progressed as per normal, mercifully. 

Her first lesson was Transfiguration. One of her (many) favourite subjects with her favourite professor. The number of students taking the N.E.W.T Level Transfiguration course was few and she was stuck in the front in between Anthony Goldstein and Theodore Nott. Next to Theodore sat a gaunt and tired Draco Malfoy, looking not entirely different from the last time he had been in this classroom, but so wholly different from the idea of him that Hermione had in her head. 

One of the small mercies of having the Triwizard Tournament, she supposed, was having the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students fill up the empty seats in class. 

It turned out, as the day progressed, that Draco Malfoy was in many of her classes. He was one of the few students who took as many N.E.W.T subjects as one could feasibly manage, and in many of the same fields of study that Hermione was pursuing. He kept to himself for the most part, especially when he was the only Slytherin in the class. 

He was often sent scathing looks by the other students, which he seemed to just ignore. Hermione felt something akin to pity blossoming in her heart for him. After all, he was basically forced into being a Death Eater, she conceded. However, it was clear to her that he wanted to put the war behind him above all else as he buried himself in his work. Hermione often saw him in the library, already making his way through coursework and engaging in extra reading, whenever she was there. 

He would sequester a small table near the Potions section in the library- one of the coldest parts in the library, where Hermione hardly frequented, unless necessary. She was mildly impressed with how neat he kept the table, whereas she liked to strew her books everywhere, every time she passed by him. 

She never approached Malfoy, in no small part due to their shared animosity. She decided she would at least be civil to him, seeing as she, as well as the Order, had proven once and for all that blood purity was a load of Hippogriff shite. Malfoy would get to her no longer. 

Her days passed with relative normalcy, as she attended classes and meal times with Ginny and Neville and the other Gryffindors. 

Viktor even engaged her in some small talk when he caught her in the corridors as she was on her way to classes. 

She was on her way to her Potions class after lunch when she saw Viktor leave the Great Hall at the same time she did. 

“Herm-own-nie,” He smiled, his warm brown eyes twinkling at her. She looked up at his face and smiled back. “Let me valk you to your class,” He offered. Viktor reached for her book bag, which she instinctively clutched closer. 

“It’s alright, I can manage.” She said. Viktor seemed unfazed by the answer and chose to walk side-by-side with her. Viktor was so much taller than her, she imagined the sight of the two of them was almost comical. 

“How is Ron?” Viktor asked. Hermione did not have to wonder why Viktor was asking about Ron. 

“Good. I haven’t written to him in a while,” Hermione admitted, feeling a little unsure of where this conversation was heading. 

“Oh? The two of you are not-” Viktor trailed off, unsure how to phrase his question. Hermione shared the sentiment. Her feelings for Ron had gone unattended to for so long, that when Ron finally started reciprocating she felt like it was the beginning of the end for them. They were acting on their childhood feelings, while living as adults. Her  _ thing _ with Ron was sweet- they had not progressed beyond a few less-than-innocent touches and snogging. But it could barely get off the ground. And with her back in Hogwarts for the rest of the year, they agreed to split until she graduated. 

Were they ever in a relationship? Surely to split up, you had to have been in a relationship? 

“No, Viktor, I suppose Ron and I aren’t  _ anything _ . Though, I would like to be. Or at least, that’s what I think. We’re waiting until I graduate,” she rambled. 

“Vell, I vill be here for you, Herm-own-nie,” Viktor said softly. Hermione flushed. 

“Thank you,” she smiled, squeezing his hand. They stopped outside the Potions classroom and said their goodbyes. 

Hermione took her seat near the front of the class. She wondered what Slughorn would be starting with today- she had already been through the syllabus before the school year started. Understandably, she was brimming with excitement to start one of her favoured classes. 

“May I have this seat?” Asked a voice next to her. The classroom was pretty much full in the time since she had arrived and pulled out her textbook to refresh herself. 

“Sure,” she said without looking up. A flash of white blond hair caught her attention from the corner of her eye and she looked up. 

“Malfoy?” Tumbled out of her mouth before she could help herself.

“Granger,” he said blandly, “I truly hope you don’t mind. There are no other seats in class and-”

“No, it’s fine,” she cut him off. She was about to ask him whether he knew what Slughorn planned to teach until Slughorn himself bumbled into the classroom. The class began without a hitch and as soon as it was over, Malfoy left quickly. 

Hermione wondered if Malfoy’s sudden and extreme change in personality had anything to do with the war or if it had to do with the fact that his previous attitude to Muggleborns was now considered socially unacceptable. He had been much more withdrawn ever since 6th Year, when he was given that horrid task. 

* * *

The following Tuesday, when all the students were assembled in the Great Hall following dinner, Professor McGonagall announced that she would reveal the 3 champions. Hermione and Ginny both wished Neville luck after he had thrown his name into the cup, just the day before. They sat on either side of him, watching Professor McGonagall with rapt attention as the Cup was wheeled in front of her. 

Hermione secretly wished Neville would not get chosen because she never wanted another friend of hers to go through what Harry had to go through in his Fourth Year. 

Professor McGonagall reached her arm up to the top of the cup and awaited the first slip of paper to fly out of it. She announced the names of the champions from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, a short brunette named Amelie and a tall and stocky boy named Alexander respectively. Hermione saw Viktor congratulate the representative from Durmstrang with a hearty clap on the back. 

The entire room fell into a hush when it came time to announce the Hogwarts champion. Hermione’s heart started pounding when she saw Professor McGonagall’s eyes widen with surprise. 

“And from Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy!” 

Much like Harry once did, Malfoy remained glued to his seat, stunned and unable to move. She saw Theodore Nott, nudge him out of his seat. Theodore kept whispering something to Malfoy, trying to get him to just move. Hermione was left with the feeling of dread that Malfoy did not put his own name in the cup, just like Harry.

Stiff as a block of wood, Draco made his way down the Great Hall into the Holding Room for the other champions.

“I don’t think he put his name in, Ginny. Just like Harry,” Hermione said to Ginny. 

“Well, I don’t care. That pointy-faced git deserves to learn some humility after everything his family did during the war- even if he has to do it the hard way!” Ginny exclaimed. The whole school was murmuring with excitement and disbelief at their chosen Hogwarts champion- a student who probably could not even get the full support of Slytherin House at this point. 

“Are you sure he didn’t put his own name in there? He’s got a humongous ego,” Neville pointed out. 

“I’m sure. He’s in many of my classes and he seems so withdrawn and I just don’t think he would do it,” Hermione rambled. 

“Well, like you said, it’s not your problem,” Ginny replied. She hopped off the bench and started following some of the other students back up to the dormitories. Hermione, feeling like there was nothing else left for her to do in the Great Hall, followed suit, with Neville walking next to her. 

* * *

“Malfoy!” Hermione exclaimed, stopping him in his tracks in the corridor. He froze and turned around to face her with his usual sneer. 

“Come to shout at me for taking all the glory, Granger?” He asked, lips curling in anger. 

“No,” Hermione replied. She steeled herself for what she was about to say next. 

“I can help you.” 

Malfoy scoffed. “Just great! Just when I thought this couldn’t get any worse, Hermione ‘the Muggleborn Princess’ Granger wants to  _ help me _ !” 

“In case you forgot, I was the one who helped Harry win the tournament the last time. You don’t think he knew all those spells because he was the one doing the research do you?” Hermione replied, equally as bitingly as Malfoy had. 

“Well, do you want my help or not?” Hermione pressed when Malfoy had not responded for a moment. 

“I suppose I could use your help,” he shrugged, “what with you being the Brightest Witch of our Age and all.” He tried to give off an air of nonchalance, but Hermione could see the relief in his eyes. 

“Don’t you forget it,” Hermione smiled at him. 

“I don’t think I shall, since you are our Golden Girl. In exchange for your help, at least let me carry your books to class,” Malfoy gestured to the book bag she was carrying. 

“I can manage,” Hermione replied, gripping her bag strap tightly. 

“I insist. My mother would surely smack me if she knew I didn’t help you, especially since you’re going to help me now. It is only the gentlemanly thing to do,” he said with a puff of his chest. 

“Fine,” Hermione sighed. She placed the strap of her book bag in his outstretched palm. He staggered backwards for a moment at the weight of her book bag, but recovered quickly. Malfoy walked next to her on the way to class, in a slightly awkward silence. 

“Thank you,” he said, once they arrived at the dungeons, “for helping me after all that I’ve done. To you especially. I will truly do my best to make you proud,” Malfoy said. His jaw was set with determination.

Stunned at his display of maturity, Hermione was unable to reply. Sensing her uncertainty, Malfoy placed her bag at her usual seat, and proceeded to take his usual seat next to hers. He was quiet as usual and didn’t talk to her for the entire potions class, but he waited for her after class to carry her books to their shared Arithmancy lesson.   
  



	2. Chapter 2

Despite agreeing to receive her help, nothing had come thus far of the arrangement between Hermione and Malfoy. Recalling the previous tournament, Hermione remembered that it took almost a month between the selection of the champions and the First Task itself. It had only been a couple of days since she had approached Malfoy. 

Classes progressed as normal, but Hermione felt her curiosity bubbling. She wanted to know who had put Malfoy’s name in the Goblet. She decided to ask him before potions class, as they were both early for class. Most of the class had assembled, already seated in the potions classroom. Her table, where she sat with Malfoy, Theodore Nott and Ginny was only half occupied, however. 

“Where is your friend?” She asked Malfoy.

He looked up from his textbook at her and shrugged, “I dunno. Theo’s usually on time if not early, so it’s possible he’s held up at his other class. How about the girl Weasley?” 

“It’s Ginny,” Hermione frowned. “And I’m not too sure where she is. She might be held over from her other class too.” 

“Hey, Malfoy,” Hermione nudged him once he had gone back to reading his book, “I want to ask you something.” 

“So ask.” He put a quill in between the pages of the book where he was reading and shut the book. He looked up at Hermione, urging her to speak now that she had his attention. 

“Did you put your name in the Cup?” 

“Blunt at ever, Granger. And besides, what do you know about that?” He asked, eyes narrowing. He tensed in his chair. 

“You looked exactly like Harry did,” Hermione explained, referring to the night where Malfoy got chosen as the Hogwarts champion. 

“Thanks,” he sneered. 

“What I meant was, Harry was just as stunned as you looked. I was watching you Malfoy, and Theodore Nott had to push you out of your seat. I did the same with Harry when his name was called. In Fourth Year, Barty Crouch Jr actually put Harry’s name in the Cup.” 

Malfoy looked thoughtful for a moment before exhaling. He debated telling Hermione for a moment before deciding to confide in her. “Alright, fine- and you have to try to keep your huge mouth shut about this, Granger- no, I did not put my name in the Cup. You have to believe me on this one. And about Potter, that’s a story you have to tell me. But not now, ol’ Sluggy’s here.” Malfoy nodded his head towards Slughorn who was entering behind the late students, like Ginny and Theodore. Both of them were eyeing Hermione and Malfoy with curious expressions, clearly not having anticipated the two former enemies to be having civil and intelligent conversation in a classroom. 

After potions class, they had lunch. Malfoy typically did not accompany her to lunch and would walk out of the classroom with Theodore as soon as class was over. The two of them nodded at Ginny and Hermione and left the classroom for lunch. Ginny lingered with Hermione while she packed her books. 

“Why were you getting all chummy with Malfoy earlier?” Ginny asked. 

“I wasn’t getting chummy,” Hermione huffed. “I was merely asking him where Theodore Nott was.” 

“Well, we were both held back by Trelawney, the old bat.” Ginny complained. Hermione snickered, as they came into view of the teacher’s table and saw Trelawney spill her glass of pumpkin juice. 

“Anyways, I offered to help Malfoy with the tournament.” 

“What!” Ginny exclaimed. “What’s wrong with you? After everything he did to you, why would you offer to help him?” 

“I never said I forgave him, Ginny.” Hermione reminded. With a sigh, she slipped into the bench, seated next to Ginny. “I can’t let him go through this alone- especially when I know for sure now that he didn’t even put his name inside the Goblet. I saw everything that they put them through the last time and I can’t let anything terrible happen again.” 

“But it’s still Malfoy,” Ginny said. 

“Yes, but I feel a personal responsibility as a Hogwarts student to the Hogwarts champion.” Hermione said, not relaying that she felt something akin to pity for Malfoy when he got selected. 

“You always had a soft heart,” Ginny smiled. “When this comes back to bite you in the arse, I will say ‘I told you so’. But for now, I will be here to support you in your endeavour to save the ferret from imminent danger.”

“Thanks, Ginny,” said Hermione drily. “However, it won’t backfire because I will be the one helping him. Don’t you remember who helped Harry out the last time?” Hermione asked, feeling a small surge of pride well up in her. 

“I’m not doubting you Hermione, I’m doubting him. He’s from bad stock, there’s no way he isn’t going to turn around and hurt you somehow,” Ginny pressed. 

“And when-  _ if _ \- that day comes, I’ll run away. But for now, I trust him not to do that. Besides, you’re making a huge deal out of this, Gin. It’s not like I agreed to marry him or be his friend- I’m only helping him with a very dangerous wizarding tournament, which I strongly believe should have been outlawed by now.” 

Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but Hermione cut her off. “Enough, Ginny. I’m done arguing about this. If our arrangement goes sour, I will let you say ‘I told you so,’.” 

* * *

A week after offering to help Malfoy, he approached her again. 

“I feel like I’m going barmy waiting for news about the First Task.” He said, plopping down next to her in the empty classroom she was using for her revision. 

“How did you find me?” Hermione asked. 

“The door was open and I could recognise that bushy head of hair anywhere, Granger.” 

“Must you be so mean?” Hermione asked, glancing at her hair in her peripheral vision. She had always been self-conscious about her hair. “I am trying to help you,” she reminded. 

“It’s just my personality. But, if I offend you so, I’m sorry.” Malfoy replied sincerely, before crossing his heart with a teasing smile on his face. 

Sensing that he was serious about his apology and nothing else, Hermione decided to tease him back as well. “As long as you don’t call me a Mudblood, we’ll be fine.” 

Immediately, Malfoy’s face darkened. Hermione regretted her words for how quickly they changed the atmosphere in the room. 

“Granger,” he said, voice thick with regret, “words cannot express how sorry I am. Perhaps you may see me as insincere- a childhood bully and a first class coward. But I really, truly am sorry. I have no bigger regret than allowing myself to spew such hate at you when all you were here for was to study magic, same as me. After everything that happened, I can’t believe I acted the way I did as a child. And that day at the Manor-” He shook his head, cutting himself off. 

He looked at her, grey eyes brimming with regret and shame. “I’m so embarrassed that I behaved the way I did. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. You who has shown me kindness, when I don’t deserve anything of the like from you.” 

“Malfoy, I am going to be honest with you, just as you have been to me.” At this, he nodded. 

“While I am no longer hurt by the word ‘Mudblood’, I will not deny that it hurt me deeply at first. Here I was in a world where I thought I finally belonged, but you made me feel so small and insignificant again. It took me a long time to get over that. And when I did, your aunt branded me forever. I am proud of my heritage Malfoy, and I will never ever let you or your family make me feel anything but that.” 

He nodded, eyes drifting over her clothed forearm. 

“I will need time before I am ready to forgive you. I do not blame you for what happened at your home. In the meantime, I propose we call a truce. Officially,” she held her hand out for him to shake. He grasped her smaller hand in his, giving it a firm shake. 

“Truce,” he smiled shakily. 

“You mentioned the First Task,” Hermione went back to their earlier topic of conversation. 

“Yes. I’m anxious to see what they will make us do.” 

“The last time, the champions basically broke the rules and found out about the First Task even though they were not supposed to.” Hermione said. She wondered if she would have to go back to her earlier days of keeping her ears open and hoping to eavesdrop on a gem of a conversation. She would rush back to the common room to tell Harry and Ron- she supposed she would have to find somewhere secure to talk to Malfoy as well. 

“Figures Saint Potter would be able to break the rules and get away with it.” Malfoy said sarcastically. His lips twisted in a sneer. His reaction surprised her as she had only wanted to offer him a small hope that they could prepare for whatever the First Task was. 

“What do you have against Harry?” Hermione asked, incensed at the way he spoke about her friend. “You were always so horrid to us as school and you just apologised. Why do you hate Harry so much?” 

“I don’t hate him, Granger,” Malfoy scrubbed his hand down his face, regretting his outburst. If he kept messing things up with her, she might not want to help him anymore. “He infuriates me. He’s always getting away with things the rest of us could never dream of, you included.” 

“Well, if I recall correctly,” Hermione bit out, “You were the same way. Always boasting about your family connections and money. At least Harry was humble about it. And you don’t know how hard his life has been.” 

“You’re right, I don’t. But you don’t know the first thing about my life, either.” Malfoy snapped. 

“Oh, like how you were a rich bigot who bit off more than he could chew? Joining the Death Eaters must have been  _ so hard _ for you, poor Draco,” Hermione batted her eyelashes dramatically. She was vicious when she wanted to be, and she was sparing none of Draco Malfoy’s feelings. Since he wanted to speak about things he had no right to, so would she. 

“Shut the fuck up, Granger. You have no idea what I went through.” Malfoy’s words were clipped and cold. He grabbed his things and stormed out of the classroom. 

He paused at the door, “I know I was not a good person. In fact, I still have a long way to go. I have done some terrible things- to you especially. But I am sorry for what I did. If you can’t see that, I don’t blame you. But never, ever speak about my Sixth Year like you knew what happened then. I can assure you I more than adequately reaped what I sowed that year alone.” 

Before Hermione had a chance to reply, Malfoy left the threshold of the classroom. 

* * *

At breakfast the next day, Hermione pretended everything was still normal. She did not tell Ginny about her fight with Malfoy for fear of invoking an ‘I told you so’ from Ginny so soon into their agreement. She was chatting with Ginny and Neville about their upcoming Hogsmeade trip when the owls started flying in with the post. 

An eagle owl flew to a stop in front of Hermione, depositing a letter in front of her bowl of cereal. She blinked in surprise- this owl belonged to no one she knew. Ginny tried to peer at the address on the letter, but Hermione quickly snatched it and stowed it in her bag. They went back to discussing their upcoming Hogsmeade trip. 

After breakfast, Hermione bade Neville and Ginny goodbye as she headed for Arithmancy while they headed off for Divination. Once she got into her seat and arranged her textbook and parchment on the desk, she fished the letter out from her bag to read it. Her wand was at the ready in case the letter was dangerous, and she opened it slowly. 

_ Granger _ , it read.  _ I’m sorry for being so curt yesterday. You poked at some wounds which have yet to heal. If your offer to help me with the Triwizard Tournament still stands, I would love to meet you in the Courtyard to discuss something. However, if you wish to have nothing to do with me, I completely understand. I will be waiting at the Courtyard at half-past noon today, so you will still have time for lunch _ . 

At the bottom of the letter, Malfoy had signed his name. Hermione folded it back and placed it in her bag. She contemplated ignoring Malfoy and rescinding her offer, but she decided to stick it out. She was nothing if she was not determined. She would show Malfoy that she was above petty squabbles and that she would truly do her best to help him.

She had Herbology after Arithmancy, where she joined back up with Ginny and Neville. After Herbology, the three of them filtered into the Great Hall for lunch. It was already noon, so Hermione resolved to have a quick lunch and then head off to meet with Malfoy. 

After getting through her salad and downing her pumpkin juice, Hermione told Ginny and Neville she was heading off to meet with Malfoy. 

“Why?” Asked Neville. 

“She’s helping him with the Tournament,” Ginny explained. Neville gaped at her before turning to Hermione with a very serious expression. 

“Are you sure about this, Hermione?” He asked.

“I already went through this with Ginny, but I suppose I’ll have to say this again. I feel a responsibility to help him as a fellow Hogwarts student and nothing else. If this blows up in my face, Ginny will be the first to call me out. Neville, you can have the next turn.” Hermione said blandly. 

“I wouldn’t do that Hermione; I was just concerned. But if you’re sure, then I trust your judgement.” Neville replied kindly. Hermione gave both of them a small wave goodbye and walked towards the Courtyard. 

When she arrived at the Courtyard, she saw Malfoy impatiently tapping his feet on the grass. His arms were folded across his chest and he was glancing around. 

“Malfoy,” Hermione said by way of greeting. He looked at her and visibly deflated with relief. 

“Granger, we’re in some serious trouble here. I-” 

“Wait, Malfoy. I think if we’re going to do this, we have to be open with each other. I can’t help you if every conversation we have is going to descend into fighting. We need to be mature about this.” 

“Alright. What do you propose, then?”

Hermione sat on the grass, urging Malfoy to do the same. “I’m not going to pry about your Sixth Year. I don’t quite think we’re close enough for us to talk about that. You’re going to tell me about how you feel coming back to school this year and I will do the same. Maybe if we start on some common ground, we can have a steadier foundation to our partnership.” 

“I don’t normally talk about my feelings like this Granger, but I suppose if it will make me more manageable, then I shall try.” Malfoy looked up at the sky, “Let’s see. I dreaded coming back because I didn’t want to leave my parents behind and I was just terrified of school anyway after what happened the last few times I was here. Then, just when I settled into the idea of having a peaceful year, someone thought it would be fun to throw my name into that fucking death cup,” Malfoy said bitterly. 

“I’m sorry, Malfoy,” Hermione replied, touching his shoulder softly. She knew those two words couldn’t convey an appropriate response to his feelings, but it was all she could manage. She had no idea how to handle this show of vulnerability from the confident, arrogant boy who tormented her for her entire childhood. Immediately, she retracted her hand. 

“I won’t poison you if you touch me, Granger,” Malfoy snorted with amusement. 

“No, it’s just- you used to be averse to my touch- I didn’t-” She rambled. 

“I’m not like that anymore. Here,” Malfoy reached for her hand, placing it back on his shoulder, “see. You’ll find that I quite enjoy your touch now.” 

Hermione flushed and she saw the tips of Malfoy’s ears turn pink. He retained an air of confidence though, much like his old self. She awkwardly withdrew her hand again once she thought the moment had died. 

They chatted idly about classes as Hermione got to know Malfoy’s perspective of many of the classes they shared together. 

He liked potions, and thought that Slughorn was a better teacher than the late Professor Snape. Transfiguration was something he struggled with, but he took it partly because McGonagall reminded him of his late grandmother. Charms and DADA were classes he excelled in, but did not have a huge interest in. His favourite class was Alchemy, which was something that surprised Hermione as she always thought Malfoy would like potions best. 

“I chanced upon some Alchemy texts as a child and I was hooked on to the subject. So when Sixth Year came around, I jumped at the chance to study Alchemy, even with everything going on.” He elaborated. 

“What do you study in Alchemy?” 

“Right now, we’re practising transfiguring materials into different states of matter,” Malfoy replied. He went into an in-depth explanation of the theory behind it and Hermione listened with rapt attention. She wondered why he did not show the studious side of himself more often, especially since he was (by his own admission) like this since he was a child. 

They remained seated there in going back and forth with the areas of interest until they both had to head off to DADA class. Without much thought, Malfoy stood and grabbed both their bags, walking with her to class. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys knew hermione n draco were gonna fight n make-up, fight n make-up; they're just great like that :) also i couldn't help but throw alchemy in there (esp after learning that draco picks up alchemy albeit post-series) since fullmetal alchemist brotherhood is literally one of my favourite shows of ALL time,,,


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Hermione finished with dinner, she bade Ginny and Neville goodbye. She wanted to head to the library to finish her Ancient Runes homework. 

“Granger,” she heard a voice from behind her. She turned around and saw Malfoy who had also exited the Great Hall, rushing after her. He gestured to her bag with his chin. 

“Off to the library?” He asked. She nodded at him and explained that she had homework to do. 

“Earlier, when we were talking in the afternoon, I had something to tell you. I completely forgot about it since then but it is quite urgent.” 

“What is it?” Hermione asked, feeling slight concern at his increasingly frazzled appearance. 

“My mother wrote to me telling me that my father overheard at the Ministry that they were obtaining travel permits to Scotland for 3 Hippogriffs. She and I suspect that it has something to do with the First Task.” 

Hermione couldn’t help herself from bursting into giggles. She laughed until her eyes started to tear up. 

“This is serious, Granger,” Malfoy snapped. Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened her posture. She cleared her throat and met Malfoy’s gaze head on. 

“Sorry. What do you want me to help you with though?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Malfoy hissed. Hermione shook her head. 

“I can’t deal with Hippogriffs. They hate me!” He exclaimed. Hermione was brought back to Third Year where he was attacked by Buckbeak after he provoked him. 

“Is this because of Buckbeak?” Hermione asked. 

“Obviously,” Malfoy ground out. 

“First of all, this could just be hearsay Malfoy. Second, even if it is true, the reason you got injured last time is because  _ you _ didn’t follow the rules. Buckbeak did nothing wrong.” 

“Did nothing wrong? He mauled me,” Malfoy whined. He rubbed his arm for emphasis. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist. 

“Come with me. I’m actually giving up my Ancient Runes homework for you.” She sighed with exasperation, dragging him out of the castle. 

“That’s due in 2 weeks, and- hey! Where are you taking me?” Malfoy exclaimed. 

“To Hagrid’s hut. He’ll be able to help us.” Hermione explained. Malfoy made protesting noise, but Hermione silenced him by tightening her hold on his wrist until it was almost painful. He tried to wriggle out of her grasp but she persisted. He knew there was no fighting against this witch, especially when she set her brilliant mind and bleeding heart on helping someone. 

“I’m not going to see that oaf, especially not when it’s bloody freezing outside!” Malfoy complained. 

“Hush, will you?” Hermione demanded. She cast a quick warming charm over the both of them and continued dragging him towards Hagrid’s hut. 

“Granger, I really don’t feel comfortable visiting him after um… everything,” Malfoy said uneasily. 

“Oh,” she softened in understanding. Then, she smiled at him, “Hagrid is very kind, Malfoy. He’ll be more than willing to help you- help  _ us _ \- once he knows we’re here for one of his beloved creatures.” 

Malfoy did not look convinced, but agreed to speak with him at least. 

“Hagrid,” she called, knocking on his door. Her other hand was still gripping on to the sleeve of Draco’s robe, lest he run away again. Hagrid appeared in the doorway a moment later with a friendly smile and greeting. 

“Hagrid,” Hermione gestured to Malfoy, who was standing awkwardly behind her, “as you know, Malfoy has been selected as the Hogwarts champion. He suspects that the First Task has something to do with a Hippogriff. We were hoping you would help us practise with Buckbeak.” Hermione explained. 

Malfoy squirmed, “Wait, he’s still  _ alive _ ?” 

Hermione glared at him but Hagrid just chuckled good naturedly. “Yes, of course. He’s in the forest.” 

“Great,” Malfoy rolled his eyes. 

“Maybe we can come tomorrow after classes? Before dinner, when the sun is still up.” Hermione suggested. 

“Malfoy, I want yer to be careful with Buckbeak. Yer offended him the last time and-” 

“Oh?  _ I _ offended him. He mauled me!” Malfoy protested, indignant. 

“Hippogriffs are proud creatures. Yer have to treat them with the same respect yer expect.” Hagrid explained. Malfoy scoffed and Hermione elbowed him. 

“Hagrid, if you would be so kind to bring us to Buckbeak tomorrow. I promised to help Malfoy with the tournament, and I think exposing him to Hippogriffs would help him greatly.” 

“That’s our Hermione,” said Hagrid proudly. “Always so kind and smart,” he ruffled her hair gently. Hermione smiled at him. 

“If you two are done, I would like to remind you both that your giant chicken hates me!” Malfoy whined. 

“If you show remorse and are ready to respect him properly, yer’ll have no problems,” Hagrid informed him jovially. “I’d be happy to show yer where Buckbeak is. I think he deserves an apology and yer deserve a second chance.” 

“See,” Hermione said smugly. She smiled at him and Malfoy was unable to keep a small smile from making its way onto his face. 

* * *

After classes the next day, Hermione and Malfoy made their way to Hagrid’s hut. They had 2 hours before the sun would set, which gave them ample time to interact with Buckbeak. Hagrid met them at his hut and the 3 set off to wander the forest in search of Buckbeak.

Malfoy was noticeably tense, even when he ground out a ‘thank you’ to Hagrid when they first met up. He was appreciative, deep down, but had trouble showing it with all the pride and fear simmering at the surface. 

Hermione was more than used to forests at this point, and felt safe since she was with Hagrid. Malfoy walked a step behind both her and Hagrid, wand out and ready. 

Hagrid led them to a nest where Buckbeak lay, resting. He whistled to Buckbeak, who cracked one eye open to peer at the intruders. Upon recognising Hagrid and Hermione, he moved over and started nuzzling Hagrid’s head. Malfoy peered at Buckbeak with intrigue and trepidation, shrinking slightly behind Hermione. 

“Malfoy,” Hagrid instructed, “bow to Buckbeak. Don’t look up until I tell yer to.” 

Malfoy acquiesced and bowed his back. Buckbeak noticed this and did not react for a moment. Just as Hermione suspected her plan would fail, Buckbeak bowed to him.

“You can look up now,” Hermione informed Malfoy. He rose from his bow and stared at Buckbeak. He knew from previous experience that saying anything at all to the creature would surely end in his demise. Buckbeak had taken a few steps towards Malfoy and nudged at his hair with his beak. 

Hesitantly, Malfoy reached his hand up to pet Buckbeak. The creature nuzzled into his palm. Relief flooded Malfoy, and he cracked a small smile.

“What next?” He asked, as Buckbeak continued to nuzzle his hand. 

“Yer could ride it,” Hagrid suggested. Not noticing how Malfoy grimaced and tensed once more, he simply picked Malfoy up and put him on Buckbeak. Ignoring even Hermione’s protests, Hagrid slapped Buckbeak’s back lightly. The creature immediately soared to the sky, and Malfoy screamed loudly in fear. 

“Hagrid,” Hermione screeched in surprise, “you shouldn’t have done that! He’s deathly afraid of Hippogriffs.” 

“Nonsense,” Hagrid waved off her concern. “Buckbeak is an intelligent and noble creature. Malfoy has earned his respect and Buckbeak won’t let anything come to him now.” 

“Still,” Hermione said worriedly, looking at the sky as though she was trying to locate Malfoy. 

It took Buckbeak 10 minutes to give Malfoy an aerial tour of the Forbidden Forest, after which they landed in front of Hermione and Hagrid. Malfoy looked visibly shaken as he stepped down from Buckbeak. Hermione rushed up to him and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. She guided him to a rock so that he could have a seat and catch his breath. 

“How was it?” She asked softly. 

“Brilliant, actually, once you get past how terrifying it is,” Malfoy grinned at her. He rose from the rock and went over to pet Buckbeak. Hagrid smiled proudly and threw a piece of meat towards Buckbeak as a reward. 

“I think I might like to try that again, someday soon,” Malfoy told Hagrid. 

“Sure, I’m sure Buckbeak wouldn’t mind obliging yer! Wouldn’t yer, boy?” Hagrid asked Buckbeak, reaching forward to ruffle his feathers a little. 

“Thank you for this,” Malfoy said sincerely to Hagrid. Taken aback by the change in Malfoy’s character, Hagrid looked at Hermione questioningly. She nodded encouragingly at him. Hagrid clapped Malfoy’s shoulder hard, smiling down at the blond. Wincing, but taking this to be a positive reaction, Malfoy managed a small smile of his own. 

“It’s getting dark,” Hermione reminded. The three set off to the castle, where they were all to be at the Great Hall for dinner. 

“Thank you both for this,” Malfoy said again as they were walking up to the school. 

“It’s no problem. We have to put some faith in our champion!” Said Hagrid. “Besides, I’m glad you two decided to come to me. Olympe asked me for some tips earlier on how to deal with Hippogriffs,” Hagrid rambled. 

“Why would she ask you that?” Malfoy wondered. 

“She’s a judge. She must obviously know something, so I guess your hunch was right.” Hermione replied. Hagrid had continued on without them, as they had slowed down behind him to discuss the implications of his statement. 

“So that girl from Beauxbatons knows,” Malfoy said. Hermione nodded. 

“It’s not such a terrible thing!” Hermione added hastily, “Just because they know does not mean you’ll fare any worse.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Malfoy agreed. 

“I should tell Viktor- it’s only fair.” Hermione bit her lip. 

“Why?” He asked, surprised. 

“Because, if both you and the Amelie girl know, then it wouldn’t be a fair competition would it? These schools are doing us a huge favour by even agreeing to compete,” Hermione reasoned. 

“Fine,” Malfoy sighed dramatically. “Must you be such a Gryffindor? Always so noble.” 

“Yes,” Hermione smirked at him. They parted ways as they crossed into the Great Hall with a small wave to each other.

Hermione was glad that the day’s lesson took such a positive turn. She only wanted to help Malfoy, and her efforts would run counter-productive if she couldn’t even figure out a way to get him over his fear of Hippogriffs. She was lucky that he managed that task himself. She saw Malfoy smiling brightly with his fellow Slytherins for the first time since they were last in school together like this, in their Sixth Year. 

Conveniently, as she was about to head to her seat, she saw Viktor walk in with the Durmstrang Champion, Alexander, in tow. 

“Viktor,” she said, tapping him on the shoulder, “there’s something I need to tell you.” He smiled kindly at her and sent Alexander off to where the Durmstrang students sat. 

“Yes, Hermy-own-nie?” He asked. 

“The First Task, it’s probably going to have something to do with Hippogriffs. Maxime already knows.” 

“Oh,” he appeared surprised for a moment. Then, his usual warm countenance reappeared. 

“Thank you for telling me, Hermy-own-nie.” 

“It’s no problem,” she smiled at him. Viktor had always been so kind to her, it was only right she returned the favour. 

He reached out to smooth a lock of her unruly hair before heading to where the Durmstrang students were seated. Her eyes followed his strong back as he walked over. Incidentally, her gaze raked over Malfoy who was no longer smiling, but bore sour expression instead as he listened in on a conversation between Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. 

“What was that?” Ginny gushed. Hermione took her seat at the table and filled her plate before she dignified Ginny with an answer. 

“What was what?” Hermione asked nonchalantly. 

“Oh come off it. Krum was totally flirting with you!” 

“I was talking to him about the Tournament,” Hermione informed her. 

“Does the tournament involve your soft curls, Hermy-own-nie?” Ginny teased, tugging on one of Hermione’s curls. Hermione swatted her hand away and dove into her meal. 

“Oh, I totally forgot to remind you!” Ginny exclaimed. “Ron and Harry will be at Hogsmeade tomorrow. They want to go to the Hog’s Head together- just the 4 of us.” 

“Why didn’t they write me?” Hermione asked. 

“Dunno. You can grill them about it tomorrow, though!” Ginny laughed. Hermione felt a little hurt that her 2 best friends did not bother writing to her but brushed that thought aside and continued eating her dinner. 

* * *

Hermione put in effort to look a little nicer for her Hogsmeade trip with Ginny that day. She attempted to tame her hair somewhat, swiped some lipstick and mascara on and picked out a slightly more flattering outfit than her jumpers and jeans. Ginny, who unlike her, was totally confident in herself, made no effort to dress any different than she usually did; she was waiting in the common room for Hermione. 

“Wow,” Ginny smiled appraisingly, “you look hot.” 

Hermione frowned in embarrassment, trying to distract from her flushed cheeks.

As the two witches made their way out of school, they saw Malfoy and Theodore Nott heading towards the village as well. 

“Granger, Miss Weasley,” Malfoy greeted. Theodore smiled politely and nodded at the both of them in greeting. 

“Meeting up with the wonder twins?” Malfoy questioned, eyes raking down Hermione’s outfit. Even Ginny managed a laugh at the nickname and informed them that they were meeting Ron and Harry at the Hog’s Head Inn. 

“Ah, we’re heading in that direction too. Need to get some new socks at Gladrags,” Theodore informed them jovially. “Draco here has agreed to be my errand boy.” 

Malfoy scowled at this, punching Theodore in the arm. “No, I haven’t,” he hissed. “You’re just making that up. I’m only following you because I’m out of wand polish.” 

“You’re free to walk with us if you like,” Hermione offered. 

“As my errand boy, Draco, I would first need you to offer Miss Granger your arm. Wouldn’t want to shock her with our lack of chivalry, would we?” Theodore mock-commanded, in a serious voice. Ginny eyed Hermione and Malfoy with interest. 

“I fail to see how that counts as an errand. But, I suppose you’re right.” Malfoy drawled. Then he offered his arm to Hermione. “Come, Granger. I’ll protect you from my arsehole friend.” 

Theodore just snorted at this and Malfoy glared at him playfully. 

Hermione took his arm hesitantly. Then, finding her confidence, she turned around to face Ginny and Theodore, who had a wicked grin on his face. “Aren’t you coming?” 

“Of course, of course!” Theodore laughed, making a shooing motion with his hands so that Hermione and Malfoy would walk ahead of him and Ginny. 

“You’re totally trying to set them up,” Ginny whispered conspiratorially at Theodore. 

“Obviously,” he snickered. “Will you help me?” He asked, looking down and meeting her eyes. 

“Hermione sure likes her Quidditch players; she’s got a thing with my brother and Viktor Krum. Until I know that both those ships have sailed, I cannot put my all into helping you. Once I have my proof, I promise to help you. Right now, though, Draco Malfoy would be my third choice for her,” Ginny flashed a smirk at Theodore. 

“Understandable,” Theodore nodded sagely. “He is a prick with an awful personality, and a pale and sickly complexion. Besides, blond hair is overrated,” Theodore huffed, gesturing to his short brown hair. 

“Personally, I like my red hair. But you’re wrong, I think they look good together, although I am ashamed to admit it,” Ginny said, staring at the two walking in front of her. Hermione and Malfoy turned back to face Ginny and Theodore, as though suspecting they were talking about them. 

“They’re soulmates, I reckon,” Theodore snickered once their backs were yet again turned. Ginny joined him in his mirth, covering her mouth with her hand so as to avoid making too much noise and alerting Hermione and Malfoy. 

“You might have convinced me a smidgen more,” Ginny said reluctantly. 

“Brilliant. Although, I fear, Weasley, that both the ships of Krum and Ronald Weasley will sail off much faster than you think. Granger and Malfoy are a match made in heaven. And I  _ will _ be the godparent of those frizzy blond babies, thank you very much!” Theodore assured confidently. 

“Only if I get to be the godmother,” Ginny retorted. Theodore clapped her on the back just as Malfoy and Hermione came to a stop outside the Hog’s Head Inn.

“Thank you for walking with us all the way- I know Gladrags is back on the High Street,” Hermione said. 

“It’s no problem, right Draco?” Theodore nudged his friend. Malfoy scowled at him. 

“Yes, it was nothing,” Malfoy agreed. 

Ginny watched with interest at Malfoy and Hermione reluctantly peeled their eyes off of each other so they could go to their separate destinations. The group waved goodbye to each other and Malfoy and Theodore left for Gladrags. Once Malfoy and Theodore had their backs turned, walking back towards the Hogsmeade High Street, Ginny and Hermione walked into the Hog’s Head Inn to meet Ron and Harry. 

Walking behind Hermione, Ginny mused, coming to the realization that Theodore was right. He may have been joking when he said they were soulmates, but there was clearly an attraction between Hermione and Malfoy. 

Poor, oblivious Hermione may not have been aware of it yet, since she was always a bit slow when it came to matters of the heart, but Ginny thought it was very clear that Malfoy had wormed his slimy way into a tiny corner of Hermione’s heart. While Ginny could not say for certain that she approved of Malfoy, she would not deny that he had changed for the better and that she would do anything for Hermione’s happiness, even sucking up her discomfort at potentially having to include him into her friend group. Things were so much simpler when it was just Hermione and Ron. Nonetheless, she stowed this information for later, deciding to see where today’s meeting with Ron would land Hermione before electing to help Theodore. And there was the not-so-small matter of Viktor Krum, too. 

Hermione, thought Ginny, was lucky that she had Ginny ‘secured the love of her life’ Weasley at her side to guide her through. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope hagrid isnt too ooc here,,, i've always thought he was extremely friendly and kind, willing to share anything he had with the ppl he liked/trusted. so hermione being one of those ppl meant that he was willing to give draco a shot since she did. 
> 
> i hope u guys enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

The two wizards were sitting at a table at the back, already nursing half-empty pints of Butterbeer. 

“Ginny! Hermione!” Harry exclaimed in excitement when he noticed the two of them walking in. Ron and he rose from their seats to hug the girls. Once they were all seated again, with orders for another round of Butterbeer, they started catching up. 

“I saw you guys with Nott,” Harry began in a neutral tone. 

“Yeah, and Malfoy,” Ginny added. Both Ron and Harry narrowed their eyes at the girls. Hermione felt dread slowly well up inside her. 

“What were you doing with Malfoy?” Asked Harry. 

“Ask Hermione,” replied Ginny cryptically. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ron questioned, incensed. 

“Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament again, to usher in a new era of peace and international magical cooperation.” Hermione stated in an even voice. 

“And guess what! Malfoy was chosen as the Hogwarts’ Champion.” Ginny burst out, unable to contain herself. 

Harry grimaced, “Merlin, I wouldn’t wish that on anybody- even him, though he is a prat.” 

“That’s exactly what Hermione said,” Ginny smirked. 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re spending time with him,” Ron frowned. 

“I’m helping him with the Tournament,” Hermione informed. 

“You’re  _ helping _ him?” Ron seethed. 

“Yes,” said Ginny as though she was speaking to a toddler, “she’s helping him. Glad we have that out of the way. Anyways, we saw them on the way out of school and they offered to walk with us.” 

“Why would they do that?” Harry asked, suspicious. 

“Oh, would you calm down!” Ginny stroked his arm, “We’re not fighting a war anymore, you know. They were perfectly civil to us.” 

“Still,” Harry trailed off, unable to hide the suspicion in his voice. 

“Oh, you know I only have eyes for you  _ mon cherry _ !” Said Ginny in a crude imitation of her sister-in-law, successfully easing the tension from Harry’s face. 

“It’s  _ mon cheri _ , Gin,” corrected Hermione idly, smiling at Harry and Ginny who were making goo-goo eyes at each other. 

“Why did we just stop talking about the fact that Hermione has agreed to help Malfoy of all people!” Ron demanded. Three pairs of eyes turned to him suddenly and he shrunk a little under the intensity of the attention. 

“I just think it’s not a small thing we should forget so easily, that’s all,” he mumbled into his fresh pint of butterbeer. 

“Hermione,” Harry said seriously, turning to face his best friend, concern etched all over his features. “You’re sure about this? You know what you’re getting involved in?”

“As if you had to ask, Harry.” Hermione fought to keep the nostalgic smile off her face. “You of all people know how capable I am when it comes to something like this.” 

“That’s good enough for me,” he admitted, sinking back into his seat. 

“Harry!” Ron protested. Clearly, he was not happy that his best friend and his sister were not putting up more of a fight about this. 

“I told her the same thing, Ron. And besides-” Ginny started. 

“-we trust Hermione,” Harry finished. Ron mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. 

“Harry!” Said Ginny suddenly, when a quiet had fallen over the group, polishing off her Butterbeer. “I need some broom polish, would you follow me?” 

“But there’s no Quid-” Ginny kicked his shin. “Ow!” He exclaimed. Realising what Ginny was implying, he rose from his seat and offered Ginny his arm, leading her out of the inn. 

“Ron-” Hermione started after a while, breaking the silence that fell over them as soon as they were alone. However, she was cut off. 

“I can’t believe you, Hermione.” Ron interrupted, angry. “Why would you help him after everything he and his family did to you?” 

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to speak, Ron continued. “He’s been tormenting you since Second fucking Year.” 

“He apologised.” She replied. “I’m helping him because he didn’t even put his name in, Ron. It was just like when Harry-” 

“Don’t compare them.” Ron snapped. 

“I couldn’t sit by and just let them do this to him. He’s changed so much Ron, and I’m not saying it makes everything better, but I’m saying he’s worth giving a chance.” 

“Hermione,” Ron’s eyes softened and he covered her hands with his larger ones, “you’re too good for him. You’re always helping everyone but I’m worried about  _ you _ . Malfoy is a slimy bloke and I’m afraid he’ll hurt you.” 

“Am I or am I not the ‘Brightest Witch of her Age? I thought I just went through this with Harry; I know what I’m doing,” snapped Hermione testily. While she appreciated Ron’s sentiments, she did not appreciate the fact that he did not think she could hold her own against Malfoy. 

“I am more than capable of protecting myself against Draco Malfoy should he try anything. But I will have you know that he has been perfectly polite to me.” 

“Fine,” Ron snapped, removing his hands from hers and scrubbing them down his face.

After a beat, he flashed her a wistful smile. “I missed you,” he said. 

Unable to help herself, Hermione blurted, “Why didn’t you write me? Why did I only find out about your Hogsmeade visit from Ginny?” 

“‘Mione,” he implored, “Harry was already writing to Gin, so I figured I would just contribute there.” 

“Yes, but why couldn’t either of you have written to me directly?” She pressed. 

“Maybe we’re busy, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “We still have to prepare for Auror training, you know.” 

“Too busy to write me a letter?” 

“I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Ron asked, frustrated. 

“No, I wanted to hear that you would write to me, especially if you miss me so.” Hermione huffed. She missed Ron and Harry so much, especially considering this was her first school year without them and her first time since she was twelve that she would be away from them for so long. They were all occupied with their chosen paths, but she never wanted this to tear them apart. She never wanted anything to tear them apart. They were her best friends. 

“Merlin, you can be so infuriating,” Ron sighed. Hermione snatched her hands from the table, already trying her best not to let a few angry tears spill, and left the inn without another word towards Ron. He had always been able to unconsciously play to her insecurities when he got defensive- she was always afraid of irritating Ron with their friendship and their relationship, so his accusation cut her deeply.

Once she exited, she noticed Harry and Ginny walking back towards the inn. She brushed past them, without even saying bye to Harry and walked back towards the castle. 

“My brother’s gone and mucked it up again, hasn’t he?” Ginny wondered aloud. Harry winced and hurried into the inn just as Ron burst out of the doors. 

“What did you say to her?” Ginny asked angrily. 

“I called her infuriating after she snapped at me for not writing her personally,” Ron said dejectedly, voice filled with regret. 

“Go after her, mate!” Harry said exasperatedly. Ron blinked and then Apparated to the bridge that connected Hogwarts to Hogsmeade. If Hermione was walking back to school- she had a tendency to walk things out so that she could think when she was in a bad mood- he would have beaten her to the bridge. 

Unfortunately for Ron, it was not Hermione who came into view. Malfoy and Theodore approached the bridge, packages of their shopping in hand. 

“Malfoy,” Ron called, “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull with Hermione, but-” 

“Go on, Theo, I’ll see you back at the common room,” Malfoy nodded at Theo as he walked past the two of them and back to school. Turning his heated gaze on to Ron, he began speaking. 

“I’m not trying to pull anything, Weasel,” sneered Malfoy, assuming Hermione had told Ron about their agreement. “She offered to help me and I accepted. That’s all. You have a lot of cheek to come here and accuse me of anything without proof. After all, aren’t you supposed to be an auror-in-training?” 

“I’m sure this is all a ruse for you to get to her,” Ron said, ignoring Malfoy’s other jibes, stepping towards Malfoy.

“You’re right, Weasel. Once again, your intelligence astounds me. I got thrown into this tournament without my knowledge or consent, can’t get out of it and am stuck with having to face tasks I’m not prepared for just so I can attack Granger. Fifty points to Griffyndor!” 

“Oh, wait,” Malfoy narrowed his eyes, voice dropping to a low drawl, “you don’t study here anymore. So stay the fuck out of my business and don’t pretend you know the first thing about Granger and me.” 

“There’s a ‘Granger and me’ now is there?” Ron asked angrily. 

“So what if there is?” Malfoy questioned. 

“There will never be anything between Hermione and you, you filthy Death Eater!” Ron shouted at him, shoving him hard on the chest. Malfoy stumbled backwards and looked stunned, not responding for a moment. 

“Ron!” Hermione’s voice sounded. She looked miserable with tear stains down her cheeks and her nose slightly red. 

“Mione!” “Granger!” The two wizards exclaimed at the same time. 

“Why are you still here, Ron? And Malfoy, why are you fighting with him?” 

“I was waiting for you, I wanted to talk,” Ron explained. Malfoy scoffed. 

“Well, I was on my way back when the Weasel antagonised me. He accused me of joining the Triwizard Tournament and accepting your help as a ruse to attack you.” 

“On behalf of Ron, I apologise. But will you please go up to the castle,” Hermione asked, grasping Malfoy’s arm lightly, “so that I can talk to Ron?” 

“Sure,” he said politely, squeezing her shoulder in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture. He gave Ron one final hard look and made his way towards school, roughly shoving past him, despite the wide expanse of the bridge being completely empty. Ron kept his gaze on the ground, as though embarrassed that Hermione had caught him yelling at Malfoy. 

When Malfoy had made a sufficient trek on the bridge towards the castle, Hermione turned to Ron with a frown, as though to say ‘explain’. 

“You’re very comfortable with Malfoy, aren’t you?” Ron asked, voice dripping with sarcasm and jealousy. 

“If you’re going to start this, Ron, I’m going to go,” she sighed. 

“I’m sorry. Hermione, you know I don’t trust him.” At this, she nodded. 

“After what happened at his manor last year, I don’t want you anywhere near him or his rotten family. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. If I’d known that you two would be talking and stuff, I would have come back to Hogwarts with you, so that the pointy-faced idiot wouldn’t get any ideas,” Hermione sighed in exasperation when Ron said this. While she did feel a rush of warmth at how endearingly protective he could be, his idea was not the most pragmatic solution. 

“But you know I can take care of myself,” she reminded, not without a slight bite. She was capable of protecting herself and she was tired of the people in her life forgetting his fact. 

“I know that,” Ron sighed, taking a few steps towards her. He gathered her in his arms and rested his cheek on top of her head. 

“I just don’t like the idea of that arse getting involved in your life,” he whispered in her hair. 

“I’m only helping him with a tournament, Ron. So far, we’ve only gone down to Hagrid’s to ride a Hippogriff. He suspects it will have something to do with the First Task.” Hermione mumbled into his chest. She failed to mention that she had been getting to know Malfoy in an attempt to build-up their previously non-existent relationship. 

“Oh, the irony,” Ron chuckled. Dropping a kiss on the top of her head, he pulled away from her to look into her eyes. He looked resigned to having to deal with Hermione and Malfoy’s partnership, regardless of whether he supported this decision of hers. 

“Promise you’ll protect yourself?” He asked. 

“Yes, Ron,” Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes.

“I suppose you’ll have to be off then,” Ron said calmly, having relaxed a little, looking back at the castle behind him. Hermione released herself from his hold and nodded. 

“I missed you too, Ron. I hope you write to me,” Hermione said sadly. 

“I will. I-I just didn’t know how that would work, y’know because we’re not dating anymore and Harry and Ginny are so I thought just adding on to his letter would be okay; Harry didn’t write to you either-”

“I know. But we’re still friends. I hope that the both of you would write to me,” Hermione replied. 

“I’m sorry, ‘Mione. It seems we always take you for granted,” laughed Ron mirthlessly. “I promise we’ll write to you more often.” 

“I look forward to it,” she said. She kissed Ron on the cheek and said her goodbyes. Ron watched her walk back to the castle until Hermione’s form became a dot that disappeared in the scenery. 

Ginny and Harry came bounding up to find him at the Hogsmeade end of the bridge. Ron scuffed the ground with his shoes in an attempt to stamp down the guilt and regret he felt at neglecting his friendship with Hermione. 

“How’d it go?” Harry inquired. 

“She’s upset we don’t write to her,” Ron confessed. Harry had the grace to look ashamed. Ginny slapped both of them upside their heads. 

“You guys always do this to her,” she said sharply. “I better see a letter for her on Monday morning at breakfast.” 

“Promise,” they said simultaneously. Ginny seemed appeased and gave them both a hug goodbye. She kissed Harry and walked towards the school, leaving Harry and Ron watching after her from Hogsmeade Village. 

* * *

Hermione bumped into Malfoy after dinner on Saturday night, having last seen him when she broke up the fight between Ron and him. 

“Hi, Malfoy,” she greeted as she saw him leave the Great Hall at the same time as her. She had left Ginny and Neville still at dinner because she was emotionally exhausted from everything that happened earlier in the day, and she wanted to go to her dorms and lie down. 

“Granger. Still recovering from the presence of the wonder twins, I see.” Malfoy said, with a nod of his head in greeting. 

Her lips curled downwards at the mention of Harry and Ron, something which Malfoy took notice of. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring them up,” he hastily apologised. 

“It’s alright,” she sighed. “Where were you heading off to? I noticed that Zabini and Theodore are still in there,” her eyes flicked to where his friends were still sitting at the Slytherin table, making their way through dessert. 

“Library. I’ve got some unfinished homework for Ancient Runes that for the life of me I can’t figure out.” He grumbled. 

“Oh, I could help you if you like,” Hermione offered. 

“Your kindness knows no bounds,” Malfoy teased. “But yes, I would love the help.” 

He smiled at her and suggested they meet at the library in 15 minutes, so Hermione had time to retrieve her books from her dorm. 

Hermione attempted to comb her hair slightly, so as to appear less frazzled, just as she was about to leave her dorms with her books in tow. Frowning at herself, she wondered why she was so concerned about her appearance when she was just helping Draco Malfoy with his homework. 

“Going somewhere?” Ginny asked just as Hermione was about to step out of the girls’ dorms. 

“Library,” she answered. It was entirely the truth, but she elected to leave the part about Malfoy out, lest she make Ginny suspicious or invite Ginny’s teasing. 

“Of course,” Ginny laughed. “Have fun,” she called.

Hermione thanked her and walked off to the library, willing herself not to overthink anything. She simply offered Malfoy help with his schoolwork, in one (of the many) subjects she was excelling in, and they were meeting in the school library. There was nothing unusual about any of this, even the fact that she was helping Malfoy, since they called a truce. So, she wondered, why was she feeling slightly nervous about meeting him? 

Hermione scanned the library looking for Malfoy. Mercifully, since today was a Saturday, there weren’t many students in the library. Plus, Malfoy’s white blond hair was instantly recognisable no matter where he sat. She located him sitting at his favourite table, head already buried in an Ancient Runes textbook. 

“Must we sit here?” Hermione whispered, in case Madam Pince overheard. She never liked his table as it was in an awfully cold section of the library. 

“Yes, Granger,” Malfoy whispered exasperatedly. “I’ve already gotten comfortable and this spot is my best ‘thinking spot’.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Hermione scoffed. Malfoy smirked at her, then gestured to the parchment in front of him. 

Hermione peeked at the question he was stuck at and sighed. 

“That is a difficult one,” she admitted. Malfoy looked astonished that she even found anything from their class difficult but quickly morphed his expression back into his neutral expression and chose not to comment on it. 

She helped him through his problem sets and was relieved to find that he enjoyed Ancient Runes almost as much as she did. He was a quick learner and showed a natural aptitude for the subject. 

It took them about an hour to get through her tutoring session. Once they were done, Malfoy offered to walk her back to Gryffindor tower. 

“That’s not necessary,” she said, pushing her chair in. 

“I insist, Granger. It would be poor manners on my part not to,” Malfoy left no room for argument. 

They walked in silence, the whole time Hermione had thoughts about Malfoy flying through her head. She wondered about his change in character- whether he was always like this or only like this to her. She wondered about what he thought of her and Ron, and whether she should feel embarrassed at Ron’s behavior. Her thoughts went astray such that she did not notice they had arrived at her dorms. 

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Malfoy smirked, stopping in front of the Fat Lady painting. Hermione was startled out of her reverie and blinked at him. 

“Go rest your pretty head, Granger,” said Malfoy. With a lazy wave of his hand, he turned and walked in the opposite direction back to the Slytherin common room. Hermione stared at his back for a moment before climbing through the portrait hole and going up to her room.

The next morning, at breakfast, Hermione received three letters. Two of them were from Harry and Ron, which she had tucked into her pocket for her to read later. The third appeared to be an anonymous one. 

‘ _ Meet at Hagrid’s hut later? Fancy getting a bit of flying in’ _ . 

It was then obvious it was from Malfoy. She looked up from her breakfast to find him at the Slytherin table. His keen grey eyes were on her, and he smirked when they made eye contact. She nodded at him, and prayed he wouldn’t see that her face was getting slightly hot. He must have noticed though, because his smirk turned downright arrogant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey i love ginny...   
and ik i said no ron bashing,, but i kind of made him behave like an ass this chapter. but dw this will not last because i love ron weasley
> 
> reviews r always appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

Since her first Hogsmeade visit, the weeks passed in normalcy. Malfoy and her met with increasing frequency- going to practise flying Buckbeak, practising his spellwork and studying together. Hermione found that when Malfoy was not being bigoted or arrogant, he was intelligent, witty and charming.

Malfoy had shed all of his bigotry ever since they came back to school this year. She felt inclined to believe he had changed after his apology, but was wholly convinced after watching his behaviour. He was not only polite to her, but he regarded her as an equal. While she did not need Malfoy’s respect to determine her self-worth, it still felt nice when he had finally accepted that she was a talented witch. So much so, that she told him as such as they were walking back to Gryffindor Tower after studying together in the library. 

“It’s not that I never regarded you as an equal,” said Malfoy in an apologetic tone, “it’s that I had struggled with accepting that you were better than me. In every way. My father used to give me hell for it, and I suppose that was part of the reason I hated you.” 

“But you were one of the top students anyway,” Hermione argued. 

Malfoy sighed, looking resigned. “My father loved me, Granger, but he was a terrible father. He was very strict when it came to my performance and behaviour at school. When he learned I was being bested by a Muggleborn my first summer back, he was so cold and scathing to me. I was only eleven, and you can imagine it hurt me deeply. For so long, I yearned for his approval and I saw you as the irritating bushy-haired obstacle in my way of getting that.” 

Hermione stared at him, surprised to see a new side to Malfoy she did not expect. 

“I know that does not excuse any of the things that I said to you, but I was a spoiled, jealous child who lashed out. I took my anger out on you and I’m sorry for the things that I said.” He continued apologetically. 

Hermione, who had long decided Malfoy was worth the time and effort she put into helping him with the tournament, said kindly, “I don’t hold that against you anymore, Malfoy. You’ve changed and anybody can see it.” 

“Your kindness knows no bounds, Granger,” Malfoy laughed softly. Gazing intently at her, Hermione was struck by the intensity of his grey eyes. She was surprised to find herself thinking that he was a very attractive boy, and this sent a warm feeling aflutter in her. 

“Anyways,” asked Malfoy, clearing his throat and cutting through the tension that was slowly enveloping them, “same time tomorrow?” 

“Yes,” Hermione was able to get out, ripping herself from her thoughts. 

“Goodnight,” Malfoy said as they arrived at the Fat Lady painting. He paused for a moment, as though contemplating something. Then, he smiled softly, “Hermione.” 

“Goodnight, Draco,” Hermione whispered back. As soon as the words left her lips, she darted through the portrait hole and valiantly willed her flush away, to no avail. She tried to calm herself down- she had only said his name, for Merlin’s sake! It was something as insignificant as saying his name and here she was, overthinking it. 

But then, they had only referred to each other by their last names for the last 7 years, a treacherous part of her mind reminded her. And Draco Malfoy was a handsome boy with a nice voice. And when he said her name, it sounded so lovely. 

Appalled at the direction her thoughts were taking, she huffed and made her way back to her dorm room, hoping against all hope that her silliness would go away with sleep. 

* * *

Unfortunately for her, it did not. When she awoke the next morning and went to the Great Hall for breakfast with Ginny before their shared Transfiguration class, she glanced at Draco having breakfast with his friends and laughing about something. She was hit again with the unwelcome thoughts about how attractive she found him. 

It was bizarre, she thought, blinking as though that could stop her train of thought, that she was thinking of Draco Malfoy like this. Their previous animosity aside, she never had thoughts like this about anyone. Sure, she had a crush on Ron and a tiny crush on Viktor, but they were vastly different than this. Her feelings for Viktor went almost as soon as they came. And her feelings for Ron snuck up on her day by day until one day in Fifth Year when she thought to herself that she loved him. 

And while she did still love Ron, just platonically now, her romantic feelings for him burned away slowly to reveal their platonic bond underneath. While she was not completely inexperienced with boys, the onslaught of thoughts she was having about Draco and how she would really, really like to touch his soft skin and kiss his lips were very new to her. 

Hermione contemplated telling Ginny but she did not want to be teased. Ginny would undoubtedly offer some good advice, seeing as she was more knowledgeable about these things than Hermione was, but Ginny would also tease her. And there was also the small issue of Hermione not wanting her feelings to be aired out into the open yet. She decided to keep them to herself for the time being. 

As if he could tune in to her thoughts, Malfoy looked up from his friends and made eye contact with Hermione. He gave her a small smile and turned back to his breakfast. Hermione stared at his blond head before focusing her attention on her own breakfast. Ginny, being as perceptive as ever, picked up on this interaction. 

“You’ve gotten really friendly with Malfoy lately,” Ginny singsonged. 

“I thought you didn’t really like him,” Hermione replied, trying to deflect from Ginny’s tease. Ginny sputtered for a moment. 

“I’m warming up to him. Besides, once you take away from the fact that he can be a right arsehole, he’s actually handsome. I also think you need someone to keep up with your big brain. God bless my brother, but there’s a reason that he isn;t the ‘ _ Brightest Wizard of His Age _ ’. Good catch, Hermione!” Ginny winked. 

Mildly annoyed by Ginny’s behaviour, Hermione did not respond. She was about to start having breakfast until she saw Professor McGonagall assemble and stand at the podium in front of the teacher’s table. 

“Attention students!” called Professor McGonagall. Wondering what she had to announce, Hermione shifted in her seat to face her. Unpredictably, the announcement concerned the Triwizard Tournament. She announced that the first task would be the weekend after the coming one, which gave Hermione and Draco just under two weeks to prepare for the task itself. 

Hermione knew there was more to the task than simply flying a Hippogriff. But, she didn’t know what more they could set for the first task. Worriedly, she looked over at Draco, trying to meet his eyes. However, he resolutely kept his gaze on his breakfast. 

She would have to talk to him today, to work out what they planned to do beyond practising flying with Buckbeak and Hagrid. Now that they faced a real date in mind for their first task, things seemed more serious and real. 

“Draco,” she tapped his shoulder on his way out of the Great Hall. She had risen to her seat as soon as she saw him doing the same, murmuring a hasty goodbye at Ginny. 

“Two weeks,” he muttered. 

“They decide to tell us two weeks before the task,” he said, with more anger. 

Unsure of how to react, Hermione merely nodded. Draco sighed in resignation and smiled at her. 

“I’m lucky I have the smartest witch ever helping me out. Unfortunately, my mother hasn’t heard anything since the Hippogriff travel permits and so I’m out of ideas.” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea myself, but I can do some research in the-” 

“Library,” he finished for her. 

Unperturbed by the interruption, she nodded. “Yes, the library. I’ll head there after class and look at previous tournaments to see if I can gather any information.” 

“But I thought we were flying today,” Draco whined rather petulantly. 

“You’ll have to do that on your own if I am to get this research done,” Hermione said haughtily. 

“Alright,” Draco huffed. Then, he made a grabbing motion with his hand. Staring at his hand inquisitively, Hermione wondered what he was trying to gesture. 

“Give me your bag, Hermione,” he explained after a beat of her trying to figure out what he was trying to communicate. She hesitantly parted with her bag and placed the strap of it in his hand. He shouldered it and headed in the direction of their shared Transfiguration class. Hermione followed after him, having to take slightly larger steps to keep up. Once he noticed she was lagging a little, he slowed down, walking at her pace. He kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, which puzzled her slightly. 

“Is there something on my face?” She asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She ran her hands over cheeks in case she had food or ink on her face. 

“No, no!” He blurted out. He appeared to hesitate for a moment. 

“It’s just, I’ve never realised before how cute your nose was,” he blurted out after a moment of his internal deliberation. Stunned at his directness, she froze for a moment. When she processed what he said, Hermione’s face felt hot and she flushed scarlet. 

“Oh,” she garbled out.

A moment of silence passed between the two of them. 

Then, “what?” She deadpanned. 

“I said what I said, Granger,” he ground out, refusing to look at her. 

“Nevermind, forget it,” Draco huffed. Hermione just followed him in silence as they walked to class. Touching her nose lightly, she struggled to formulate a response to him. 

“Thank you Draco,” she said softly, after contemplating what to say to him. A ‘thank you’ would be the simplest thing to say, but Hermione tended to overthink, by her own admission. 

Draco grunted and handed her bag back to her as they made their way into the Transfiguration classroom. They went to their separate seats and she resisted the urge to look back at him throughout the lesson. Ginny hurried over to her seat next to Hermione’s and flashed her an indecipherable expression. 

* * *

Two weeks later found Hermione, Draco, the other Champions and the rest of the Hogwarts students in an empty grass space near the Forbidden Forest. While the grass space was perfectly sunny and looked unassuming, the Forbidden Forest looked eerie and ominous even at 10 in the morning. 

“Good luck, Draco,” Hermione giving his arm a squeeze. As the 3 Champions made their way over to the Ministry Official and their Headmasters, or Viktor Krum, in the case of the Durmstrang Champion, Alexander, Hermione made her way back to where Ginny and Neville were standing. 

“I’m so nervous,” Hermione admitted, chewing her lip. 

“He’ll be fine, Hermione. After all, you trained him,” Neville reassured her. She grabbed both their hands and squeezed for support. 

Hermione watched as the 3 Champions made their way into the Forest. They looked uneasy, as they rightfully should. With a flick of his wand, the Ministry official raised a series of obstacles into the sky. 

The first looked like a set of hoops, not unlike those used for Quidditch, except much bigger. Presumably, they were for the Hippogriffs to fly through. The second was a rather large floating maze, with a see-through bottom so that the spectators could watch. The third, which was the one that scared Hermione, was a wall of fire that the Champions were expected to get through. 

“They’re enchanted,” Hermione whispered to herself in realisation that the three obstacles were enchanted such that the Champions had to through them and could not fly around it. 

She waited impatiently for them to emerge on the backs of the Hippogriffs from the Forest for what seemed like half an hour. Then, a rustling was heard. Draco was the first of the three to emerge from the Forest on the back of one of the Hippogriffs. The other two students following closely behind. 

Draco led his Hippogriff through the hoops easily and entered the maze in record time. From the ground, they could all see Draco on his Hippogriff navigating the maze. Even though, he took a few wrong turns, he made it out at the same time as the Beauxbatons Champion, Amelie. 

The two of them raced each other to the wall of fire, which unlike the other 2 obstacles, had to be shared by the 3 Champions. Amelie made it ahead of him and attempted to cross the wall of fire by extinguishing it with an  _ Aguamenti _ . However, the fire reappeared before she could fly through. Stunned, Hermione watched as Draco and Amelie hesitated in the sky until Alexander caught up with them. 

Draco suddenly hit the wall of fire with a non-verbal charm, sending a burst of wind through it. This gave him clearance and he sped through the wall. However, the fire reappeared before he made it all the way through and caught on part of his clothes. Draco didn’t seem to notice and steered the Hippogriff to the designated landing zone on the ground. Draco hopped off the Hippogriff and wavered a little as he walked over to the judges. After the Ministry official declared him the winner of the First Task, he nearly sank to the ground in relief. 

Hermione ran towards him, quickly muttering a wandless extinguishing charm to put out the flame still on his robes. He stood up to receive her and she threw herself into his arms. She was so wrapped up in examining him for cuts and bruises and burns that she didn’t notice the other champions landing, Amelie, then Alexander. 

“Your arm,” breathed Hermione, staring at where the flame had eaten through his clothes and burnt his skin. 

“I didn’t even realise,” Draco murmured, looking at his arm in astonishment. 

“How was it?” Hermione asked, already guiding him to the Hospital Wing. 

“Fun,” he gave her a rakish grin. 

Just before Madame Pomfrey could start hovering over Draco, Hermione gingerly eased him down onto one of the beds and sat on a stool by his side. Madame Pomfrey then slathered a thick layer of salve on his arm and insisted he stay until dinnertime. 

“That burn is really serious, Draco,” she frowned, “I can’t believe they would design a wall of fire as one of the tasks.” 

“It’s not that bad,” Draco puffed his chest out. She slapped his uninjured arm lightly and they settled into silence. 

“Draco!” Theodore yelled from the entrance of the Hospital Wing. He opened his mouth to shout again, but Madame Pomfrey shot him a withering glare and he closed his mouth instantly. He ran to Draco’s bedside with Ginny and Pansy Parkinson. 

“I’m really alright,” said Draco, slightly embarrassed that all his friends were crowding around his not-so-serious injury. He turned his salve covered burn in their direction emphatically. 

“It’s a good thing Granger had more sense than the judges and the Ministry and brought you straight here,” huffed Pansy. Draco gazed at Hermione as she said this, nodding in agreement. 

“It was only the right thing to do,” said Hermione self-righteously. 

“Thank Merlin for you Gryffindors then!” Theodore cheered. 

“That was brilliant, by the way, Malfoy! Your flying,” Ginny praised. 

“Thanks, Weasley,” Draco smirked. 

Madame Pomfrey made her way over and force fed Draco some sedative potion. She shooed the group out so that Draco could have his rest. As they all made their way out, Draco grabbed Hermione’s wrist. Using his last remaining energy to shoot Pansy and Theodore a look as though to say ‘leave us alone’, the other 3 scurried out of the Hospital Wing. 

“Herm,” Draco gurgled out, clearly very near being unconscious. 

“Kiss,” he murmured, a tiny smirk on his face as his eyes drew shut.

Rolling her eyes in annoyance, but deciding to indulge him, Hermione pressed a soft kiss on his forehead and left the Hospital Wing in search of Ginny and Theodore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah hah! im happy to say the next chapter (which ive alr written) is more relationship-y than this one! also, the next few weeks are going to be sooo busy for me (i have pro bono activities starting and a presentation coming up rip) so im not sure how frequently i'll update past next friday.... i will try to stick to my schedule of weekly updates but we'll see


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione exited the Hospital Wing and saw Ginny, Theodore and Pansy all watching her like Hawks would watch their prey. 

“What?” She snapped, tired of them staring at her without saying anything at all but with that awful expression on all their faces. 

“If I wasn’t so in love with Draco in my younger years, I would have been the first to see how perfect you two are for each other,” Pansy said to Ginny and Theodore, as though she was conceding defeat. 

“They are well-suited,” Theodore nodded sagely. 

“Hermione you dog!” Ginny said, finally addressing Hermione. “Getting all kissy-kissy with Malfoy while he’s injured!” 

Hermione sputtered in embarrassment, looking at the three faces before her, all still retaining their smug expressions. 

“If you keep looking so smug, your face will stay like that forever, you know,” Hermione sneered bossily. Ginny, Theodore and Pansy all burst into hysterical laughter. 

“See, Pans, they’re like, destined for each other; so similar it’s scary,” Theodore pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. 

Pansy’s manicured hand reached out in front of Hermione. Mustering her best smile, Pansy began to speak. 

“Friends, Granger? I am sorry for everything I’ve ever done and I would appreciate it if you gave me the chance to show that I’ve changed. I know we had an awful relationship, but if you make Draco this happy, I’m willing to see beyond your horrid hair. ” 

“Friends,” Hermione grasped her hand and shook it, choosing to ignore the rest of her statement. 

“Thank god we have you, Parkinson.” Ginny said, “Hermione needs all the help she can get with blokes; she’s hopeless. I love you, though, Hermione.”

“Thanks, Gin,” said Hermione dryly. 

“But I don’t need help with boys. I am fine just the way I am,” Hermione asserted, even though she was not completely confident of that herself. She knew she was smart and a brilliant witch, but she was lost on the art of seduction. And she knew that if she wanted Draco’s attention, she would have to try her hardest to be prettier and more ‘girly’ than she was. Even if it put an unpleasant taste in her mouth, she knew it was the only way to get a wizard like Draco to notice her. 

As though reading her thoughts, Pansy spoke, “Draco likes you because you’re  _ you _ , Granger. There’s no need to change, so get that into your thick head.” She whacked Hermione’s head lightly for emphasis. 

“How did I know?” Pansy asked, as though reading her thoughts again. But judging by the puzzled look on Hermione’s face, she was sure it was obvious what she was thinking. 

“I know what it’s like to have feelings for that arse. You think you have to be this perfect princess to get His Highness’ attention. Word of advice from witch to witch: Draco likes you as you are. And if you have to change for a wizard, he isn’t worth it, Granger.” Pansy said haughtily, but nonetheless flashed Hermione a reassuring smile. 

“That’s settled, so I guess we’ll see you later?” Theodore asked, abruptly changing the topic. Ginny nodded and he grabbed Pansy’s shoulders and steered her off to the Dungeons. 

“They’re planning a party for Malfoy. We’re invited,” Ginny explained Theodore’s strange and sudden behaviour. Then, she started walking in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. Hermione joined her as she listened to Ginny discuss her outfit that she planned on wearing to the party. 

Hours later, Hermione and Ginny made their way down from Gryffindor Tower to the Slytherin Dungeons. Ginny, who had been given express permission by Theodore to invite whomever she wanted, asked Neville to accompany them. He declined and chose to stay in their common room with a Herbology journal. 

Blaise Zabini, who was waiting outside the Dungeons to welcome any non-Slytherins into the party, wolf whistled when he saw Ginny and Hermione approach. 

“Looking good, red,” he winked at Ginny. She made a fake barfing noise at him and stared at him expectantly to invite them in. He whispered the password to the portrait and gave them permission to enter. 

As expected, the bulk of the rich, aristocratic pureblooded children were sorted into Slytherin House. Therefore, it was completely unsurprising to see that they were all dressed to the nines, leaving Hermione even more self-conscious in her modest knee-length dress, which she picked off the rack at a Muggle Department store. Ginny didn’t seem to mind and was eagerly searching the room for Theodore. 

“Theo!” Ginny exclaimed when she landed her eyes on his sandy brown hair. 

Hermione wondered when Ginny and Theodore were on nickname basis.

“Gin!” He smiled at her, waving them over. Hermione and Ginny approached the group, where Pansy and Blaise were pressed against each other on one of the couches. Blaise’s sudden reappearance bewildered Hermione. 

“Ah! There he is,” Theodore said, leaving the group to walk over to Draco who had just entered the common room, presumably from the Hospital Wing. He looked astonished to return to such a celebration in the Dungeons and looked to Theodore for an explanation. 

“Hey, everyone!” Hollered Theodore, who had stood up on a table. “Our Champion is here!” 

The room erupted in cheers for Draco, who took it all in with a neutral expression. 

“Cheers, mate! Didn’t know I had so many fans,” Draco clapped Theodore on the shoulder. As if suddenly noticing the presence of Hermione and Ginny, Draco’s elated smile slowly morphed into a smirk. 

“And here we have the lions, who have so willingly entered the snake’s den. You clean up nicely, Weasley.” He nodded at Ginny. 

“And you look nice, Hermione,” He said softly, having moved closer to her. The rest of the group suddenly paid the pair of them no mind, as they engaged in a conversation among themselves and steadfastly avoided looking at Draco and Hermione. 

Locating an empty couch near the large fireplace, Draco pulled Hermione along and sat her down. He sat beside her and draped his arm over the back of the couch. 

“How do you like the Slytherin common room?” He asked. Hermione sat stiffly, avoiding leaning against the back of the couch, lest she rested against his arm. 

“It’s nice. I thought it would be dreary because of how Ron and Harry described it but-” 

“How the fuck do they know what it looks like in here?” Asked Draco in shock.

“Oh, I suppose I never had the chance to tell you.” Hermione blinked. Then, she continued, “In Second Year, with all those attacks going on, Harry, Ron and I wanted to figure out who the heir of Slytherin was. They had long suspected it was you, but I thought otherwise. I brewed some Polyjuice Potion and they went in to the Dungeons with you disguised as Crabbe and Goyle.” 

Draco seemed to contemplate for a moment and then realisation dawned on him. 

“Holy shite,” he whispered, as though unable to believe what she had just said. 

“You were twelve,” he whispered in admiration. 

“I was thirteen,” she corrected. 

Very abruptly, his face drained of all colour. 

“They didn’t tell you what I said that night, did they?” Draco asked. Hermione shook her head. 

“Hermione,” he said very remorsefully, “I want you to know that I was a very bigoted person- and I own up to this. But I don’t feel that way anymore, and I don’t believe anything that I said. I am so sorry for ever saying those things.” 

“Draco,” she said his name, with growing dread in her stomach, “what did you say?” 

“I said that I hoped you were the Mudblood that died in the Chamber,” he mumbled, unable to meet her eyes. 

Immediately, the urge to cry washed over Hermione as she felt a hot stinging behind her eyes. 

“I’m leaving, and I don’t ever want to speak to you again,” she got out as evenly as she could before leaving him behind and exiting the Dungeons. She went straight back to her dorm and cried herself to sleep, feeling very much like she did the first time a twelve year old Draco Malfoy called her a mudblood and made her feel as though she was not even worth the mud on his shoes. 

* * *

“Where were you last night?” Ginny asked as soon as Hermione left her room. Ginny was waiting at the top of the staircase which led down from the girls’ dormitories to the common room. Hermione, already aware that she looked awful with dishevelled hair and red eyes, bristled. 

“I came back early- I wasn’t feeling well,” Hermione said, but she knew Ginny would not buy her excuse. 

“Bullshit,” Ginny snapped. “I saw you talking to Malfoy then the next thing I know, the both of you are nowhere to be seen.” 

“I told him about the time Harry and Ron snuck into the Slytherin Common Room,” Hermione began cautiously, knowing full well that talking to Ginny about that year was a sensitive subject, “and he told me what he told them about the attacks.” 

“What did he say?” Ginny’s voice came out slightly strangled and much softer than usual. 

“That he wished I died in the Chamber,” Hermione replied, feeling tears well in her eyes again. She wasn’t hurt by his statement as much as she felt stupid for trusting him. She thought that he had changed, and while he was a much better person now, she could not deny that it cut her deeply to know that he ever thought those things about her, when she had not even done anything to him. 

“I’ll kill him,” Ginny raged, eyes blazing. She already turned on her heel as though to walk to the Slytherin dorms when Hermione grabbed her arm to stop her. 

“Don’t bother, Gin. I’m done with him,” Hermione allowed a few tears to fall as Ginny put her arms around her. 

* * *

On the other side of the school, Draco was not faring much better than Hermione.

By nature, he had always been a proud creature. The only child and heir to a rich, old Pureblood family left him feeling as though his pride and self-confidence (read: arrogance) were completely justified. 

So to return to the school where he was once top dog and to face up to his many failures and regrets, all the while dealing with the changing social landscape of their community was understandably overwhelming for him. Then, Hermione Granger had to offer her sacred friendship to him and make him feel as though he was doing the right thing for once- interacting with students of all backgrounds in school, trying his best at classes and working hard to make his school proud in a tournament. 

Unfortunately, he had not paid back all of his debts. As fate would have it, he royally messed up and admitted to Hermione that he had once wanted her dead. Yes, in the heat of the moment, his brain told him it was the right thing to say. But even then, his heart knew that wishing death on anyone was not the right thing to do. Especially not Hermione, who hadn’t done anything to hurt him. 

So when Hermione, after everything he had pulled, offered him a clean slate and actually appeared to enjoy his company, he was left with a sick sense of guilt because of how he used to treat her. Then, his heart- a fickle and unpredictable thing, really- had to go and develop feelings for her. Now, he was consumed by thoughts of touching her- her hair, her nose, cupping her face, running his hands along her body- every time she was near him. The witch had no idea of her allure. 

And yesterday, he thought with a grimace, before he rather mucked up everything up, she was dressed in a simple dress. But he thought she looked effortless and beautiful. All he wanted was to hold her and kiss her. To think he might have succeeded in just that as they sat together on the couch was a rare moment of naivete and optimism he allowed himself. 

Now, he stared at the ceiling of his dorm, unable to sleep past sunrise, as he battled with his thoughts to the background symphony of Theo and Blaise’s snores. He scrubbed his hands down his face and contemplated apologising to her, despite her declaration of wanting nothing to do with him. 

He rolled off his bed and ambled to the boys’ bathroom, where he washed up. Putting on a nice pair of robes, he left the Slytherin dorms and headed straight for Gryffindor Tower, where he waited outside the portrait hole until Hermione emerged or entered. 

He got his wish far before he was expecting, as Hermione and Weasley appeared out of the portrait hole. 

“Malfoy,” Weasley snapped at him as soon as her eyes landed on him. “You’re not wanted here.” 

“Hermione, I only want to apologise,” Draco implored, staring at Hermione. She was avoiding his gaze and looked at the floor. 

“You’ve done enough,” Weasley sniped, taking a threatening step towards him. 

“Fine,” Hermione sounded bored, although her eyes betrayed her, revealing her fear and hope all swirling in their chocolate depths. Weasley did not appear to like this, but she relented, squeezing Hermione’s arm and informing her that she would wait at the Great Hall. 

“Give me one reason why I should forgive you, Malfoy?” Hermione raised her hurt, tired eyes to him.

“I can’t, honestly,” Draco swallowed. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at her as he attempted to gather his words. 

“I want to prove to you that I’ve changed. The awful things I did in my past- I did them, but I’m nothing like that boy anymore,” Draco rambled. 

“The thing is,” Hermione folded her arms across her chest, “I can see you’ve changed. But I don’t know if that’s enough to get over your past- what you’ve said and done to my friends and me.” 

Almost as if sensing that another apology would just cheapen his sincerity, Draco kept his mouth closed. He tried to communicate his regret and sincerity with his eyes, as he gazed into Hermione’s eyes, trying to assess what she was feeling. 

“I don’t know how many second chances I have to give, Draco,” she whispered, gathering in on herself. 

“And I keep taking them for granted,” Draco sighed bitterly. “Hermione, if we’re concerned with everything I’ve done in the past, you’d be better off having nothing to do with me.” 

Hermione looked as though she were about to protest for a moment, before she shut that down. 

“Nothing I can do will make up for my past behaviour. But I promise to you that I will never  _ ever _ be like that again. And if that is enough for you, I will try my best to make amends for everything that I have ever done to you, Hermione.” 

She looked like she wanted to agree but was stopping herself for some reason. 

“And if it isn’t enough, then I will walk away from you and pretend that we were never anything, like you want me to.” 

“I don’t want that,” Hermione mumbled. Then, she closed the distance between them and launched herself at him, hugging him tight. Overwhelmed by how good it felt- how  _ right _ it was- to have her in his arms, he closed his eyes and savoured the moment, breathing in her curls. 

“You put me through so much emotional torment,” Hermione whispered, half teasingly, half angrily. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, voice thick with suppressed emotions. 

“You know,” he abruptly changed the topic, all the while holding her still, “I knew a little about Father’s plans, but I also knew Potter and you would somehow stop it. I ripped that page out of the book on Basilisks in Flourish and Blotts and put it in your hands.” 

“What?” She pulled back to look at him. 

Taken aback by their proximity, faces mere whispers apart, he flushed. “I put the page in your hand. Did it do you any good?” 

Her face broke out in the most beautiful, beaming smile and she kissed him. Her arms came up to rest around his neck and his arms pulled her closer by her waist as though he could meld their bodies together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the past week and the upcoming weeks have been so busy N now i fell sick,, i haven't had the time to edit this chapter :(( i hope things don't seem so hot and cold to u, but realistically this is how i think dramione works, like they will argue and fight, but there's a bond between them that will always pull them back to each other. hope u guys don't think things r progressing too fast either, but the upcoming chapter (at least imo) tempers it a little :)


	7. Chapter 7

“Are you that happy about me destroying a book?” Asked Draco, looking at her with amusement in his eyes. 

“Oh, shut it,” Hermione huffed, gently disentangling herself from his arms and standing in front of him. 

“Hermione,” he toyed with one of her curls as he spoke, “I would very much like to court you.” 

“Court me?” She asked, looking at him in amazement at his rather archaic language. 

“Yes. It is when a couple see each other casually to spend time with each other and get to know each other. Do Muggles not do this?” He asked, frowning in confusion.

“No, we do, we do!” She laughed. “We call it dating.” 

He nodded slowly, as though trying to internalise what she said. “Ok,” he agreed, “we are dating, then?” 

“If you would like to,” Hermione trailed off, unsure. 

Draco strengthened his resolve and grabbed her hand. “Yes, I would like to.” 

Pecking her forehead, they walked hand-in-hand to the Great Hall. Hermione, still reeling from the complete turn her feelings took, struggled to imagine how she would explain this to Ginny, who was most probably expectantly waiting for her. 

“We could keep this a secret for awhile, if you’d like,” suggested Draco. Amazed at how well he could read her, she blinked at his suggestion for a moment. 

“Yes, I think that would be best for the sanity of all our friends,” she agreed. Draco seemed satisfied with her decision, and released her hand as they approached the entrance of the Great Hall and more students came into view. She bid him goodbye once they crossed the threshold and they went to their separate house tables. 

“What did he have to say?” Ginny asked as soon as Hermione sat down. While Hermione dreaded having to explain everything to Ginny, she was immensely thankful for Ginny’s constant presence and unwavering support and loyalty this year. 

“I have decided to put it past us,” Hermione explained, holding her hand up to silence Ginny who was about to protest. “If I’m to harped on what he’s done, I will never be able to spend time with him now. He was awful in the past, and I of all people know. But, I like spending time with him now and so I can not hold his past actions against him or I can kick him out of my life. You and I both know he’s changed, Ginny, and I will give him one last chance. If he ever behaves like he used to, I will kill him myself.”

“Fine,” said Ginny, biting the inside of her cheek. “If you can give him one more chance, then so can I.” 

“Thank you, Gin,” Hermione grinned at Ginny. The two witches filled their plate with breakfast and began their meal, talking about whatever measly updates Harry and Ron trickled their way from Auror training. 

* * *

Hermione had begun spending even more time with Draco in the wake of their burgeoning relationship. They had agreed to see each other exclusively, but they both wanted things to progress slowly. Hermione and Draco had also both agreed to keep their relationship a secret from everyone except their friends.

Ginny, Theodore, Neville and sometimes Pansy would tag along and study with them on occasion. However, as none of their friends were taking as many classes as Hermione and Draco, it was inevitable that the couple would have to spend a lot of time studying in the library or in other spaces in the school. 

“So,” said Draco, cracking his fingers, “there’s a Hogsmeade weekend coming up.”

They were in the library finishing up an assignment for Potions, but had left and were on the way to the Great Hall for dinner. 

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, unsure of where this conversation was going. 

“We’re seeing each other, so it’s only natural for me to accompany you.” Draco informed her. 

“Ah, I see.” Hermione smiled. Then, reaching over to grab his hand, she grinned sappily. “We’re together.” 

“Yes, Hermione,” Draco squeezed her hand. “Anyways, wear something nice. I’ll bring you to the Three Broomsticks for lunch or something, god knows I could never do Madam Puddifoots’!” 

“I’d like that, Draco,” Hermione beamed at him. Reluctantly, they parted ways at the Great Hall’s entrance and went to their respective house tables. 

Ginny waggled her eyebrows suggestively when Hermione sat down at the table. Neville gaped at Hermione, still in occasional disbelief that Hermione so easily showed affection to Draco Malfoy, of all people. 

“Oh, hell!” Ginny suddenly exclaimed. “Harry’s coming down this weekend to Hogsmeade! Not sure about Ron, though.” 

“I know,” Hermione nodded. She had received word from Harry that he would be in the village this weekend from one of his letters. Ron, however, had remained silent on that particular issue in their correspondence. 

“Draco’s asked me to go with him. Together,” Hermione informed Ginny after a few beats. 

“Like a date?” Ginny asked. 

“Gin,” Hermione decided it was time to come clean, and that lying to Ginny might just make things messy for everyone, “we’ve decided to start dating.” 

“Oh,” muttered Ginny in shock. “So, are you planning on telling Harry and Ron yet?”

“No, I think I’m not quite ready to tell Harry and Ron yet,” Hermione admitted. She wasn’t ashamed of Draco, but she did not know how Harry would take it. More importantly, she was wary of hurting Ron. After all, she and Ron had yet to rule out the possibility of being together again. Or, at least, Ron had yet to rule it out. She was not sure of where she stood on that anymore, given her relationship with Draco was so new.

“Alright, then, someday, maybe we could go on a double date?” Ginny suggested, waggling her eyebrows. Hermione nodded, but she wondered how any of the boys would take the suggestion. 

* * *

Hermione, feeling like she wanted to put in a little more effort for her trip to Hogsmeade with Draco, woke up a little earlier than usual. She stood in front of her clothes, trying to decide what to wear. She had not even been up for five minutes when a sleepy Ginny ambled into her room after bursting through the door. 

“Oh good!” Ginny exclaimed, “You’re awake!” 

Hermione gaped at her, wondering what she was doing in her room. 

“You’ll need my help,” said Ginny with an air of self-assurance around her, “if we’re to doll you up for Draco.” 

“I don’t want to be dolled up,” Hermione frowned, “I just want to look nice.” 

“Yes, yes,” Ginny waved her hand dismissively, “pish posh. Draco Malfoy won’t know what hit him when I’m done with you.” 

“Ginny,” Hermione emphasized, “I don’t want to do anything too much. Just something simple.” 

“That’s why you’re up so early,” said Ginny, unconvinced, “because you want to do something  _ simple _ .” 

“Well, I’m not as good at these things as you are!” Hermione huffed, sitting down on her bed, feeling dejected.

“Oh, Herms,” Ginny cajoled, “I wish you could see how amazing you are.” 

Ginny plonked down on Hermione’s bed, next to her, and wrapped Hermione in a hug. Hermione rested her cheek against Ginny’s shoulder, feeling immense relief that Ginny and her were close enough for them to have a bond like this. Merlin help her if she ever went to Harry and Ron with her problems like this. 

“So,” Ginny lightly petted her hair comfortingly, “I saw this dress in amongst your things that I absolutely think you should wear!” 

“The blue one?” Hermione questioned. She had bought the dress on a whim in the summer before the war and never got the chance to wear it. She packed it for school, again, entirely impulsively but with no real purpose for the dress in mind. 

Ginny nodded. Hermione walked to her trunk and retrieved the dress. Ginny immediately uttered a charm to smooth the wrinkles and urged Hermione to put it on. Once Hermione had changed into it, she turned in front of the body length mirror in her room to examine what she looked like. It was a powdery blue dress with puffy sleeves and a hem that dropped just below her knees. 

A wolf whistle came from Ginny who quickly approached Hermione, wand in hand and hair smoothing charms on her lips. Just as Ginny was about to apply a hair smoothing charm on Hermione, she grasped Ginny’s wrist. 

“I have my own charm,” said Hermione. Ginny looked inquisitive as Hermione muttered a charm that added bounce and definition to her curls. Ginny helped her with some simple eyeshadow and blush and Hermione topped off her look with her favourite mascara and lipgloss. She then donned her robes. 

Ginny had yet to get ready and sat Hermione down in the common room while she went to get ready for her Hogsmeade date with Harry. In record time, Ginny descended the stairs. She wore a skirt and muggle band t-shirt, as well as a darker plum lipstick. The two witches walked out of the common room and ran into Draco Malfoy, who was standing at the entrance to the Gryffindor dorms. 

“Draco!” Hermione gasped softly. 

“Hey,” he smiled, eyes taking in her outfit. Turning pink at the ears, he smiled. 

“You look wonderful.” 

Ginny smiled proudly before scurrying off, “I’ll be off to meet Harry, then! You two lovebirds take your time.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly and turned her gaze on to Draco. He offered an arm to her and led her through the familiar path from Gryffindor tower to the village. He was dressed in his usual all-black garb- a sharp blazer over his black button-down and black slacks, over all of which he was wearing black robes. 

Draco brought her to a small breakfast nook as soon as they reached Hogsmeade.

They got a seat in a quiet corner in the back, joined by some other students and residents of the village in the cade. He lay his forearm across the table and urged her to do the same. As soon as she did, he grasped her hand and threaded his fingers through his. His thumb ran lines across the back of her hand. 

“You know,” he began, eyes suddenly downcast all of a sudden, “I don’t know how I could ever make up for what my family has done to you.” His eyes flickered to her faded scar on her arm, which used to display Bellatrix’s cruel branding of her. 

“And for some reason, you’ve agreed to date me. I know we’ve only been together for a couple of weeks, but we’ve been friends for a few months now.” His eyes, like pools of liquid silver, turned to her. 

“You are the light of my life, Hermione. Whether as a friend or my girlfriend, you’ve brought something good and pure into my world and I promise you to never make you regret it.” 

He brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on it. 

“I-” She began, but was cut off. 

“Hermione?” Ron asked, appearing out of nowhere. 

“Ron?” She exclaimed in shock. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to visit,” he mumbled, eyes trained on Draco and Hermione’s joined hands. 

“Let’s take this outside, Ron,” Hermione gently suggested, fearing an escalation. Disentangling her hand from Draco’s, she and Ron walked outside of the breakfast cafe. 

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with him!” Ron snapped. 

“Well, believe it. I really like him.” 

“Hermione,” pleaded Ron, grabbing her hand, “we are something, aren’t we? Or did you forget?”

“We were something, Ron. I’m immensely thankful for the time that we spent together but I’m not that girl anymore,” she said softly. 

“You’re a great friend, forever and always,” she continued, unaware of the sheer hurt that he now bore openly on his face, as she kept her eyes trained to the ground. 

“Right,” scoffed Ron, “a friend.” 

He wrenched his hand out of her grip and gave her a hard stare. 

“Ron,” she whispered, as though his name enough could convey everything she felt. 

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m going to need time to get over this-this  _ thing _ you have with Malfoy,” he spat. He pressed a quick kiss on her forehead and left her, heading off towards the high street. Without so much as a goodbye or a glance back, Ron disappeared from her sight. 

Hermione stood outside for a moment before collecting herself and returning to Draco. She could see the worry in his eyes and hurriedly got back into her seat. 

“How was it?” He murmured, reaching for her hand again. 

“Awful,” she sighed bitterly. Draco’s lips twisted in disappointment, but he chose not to comment. Instead, they dined in silence.

When they were done, she let Draco guide her off her seat and towards the high street, where they spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. Not for the first time, Hermione wondered how her heart had so openly and quickly latched on Draco, especially when he brought her to Tomes and Scrolls, left her alone there for half an hour, and returned with a hot cocoa. 

Unable to help herself, she reached up and kissed him, right in the middle of the Hogsmeade high street. Draco’s arms around her and she figured she was done overthinking for once, not caring that a sizable portion of the Hogwarts student body watched her snog Draco Malfoy in Hogsmeade. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hullo! here's a quick resolution for ron,,, we will see him again (hopefully...) but things will look up for ronniekinns. also, here is [the dress](https://www.lulus.com/products/elsie-dusty-blue-puff-sleeve-mini-dress/781972.html) Hermione is wearing (just imagine a slightly longer hem okkk)! ok, anyways im signing out so i can get back 2 writing next week's chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to wish hermione granger a happy belated birthday!

For the rest of the week, Hermione spent most of her free time with Draco. She was upset over her fight with Ron and so she threw herself into her schoolwork and spending time with her boyfriend. 

Draco, on his part, did not try to pry her feelings out of her. He chose to let her stew in them and sort them out before she was ready to vent. He tried to distract her and help her get over her argument with Ron by going to the library with her and reading some of his favourite wizarding literature while her head rested on his shoulder. There was a small reading nook in the corner of the library that even Madam Pince hardly frequented, so students were a little more free to make minimal noise there. 

But Hermione knew that even Draco had his limits. He was extremely patient with her, even when she would work herself into a funk over Ron, but it took him exactly a week until he cracked. 

The Saturday after the fateful Hogsmeade Trip where she had a fight with Ron, Draco and she were sitting pressed against each other in the library’s reading nook. 

With an exasperated sigh, he shut the book he was reading with a snap. 

“What?” She asked warily, afraid he was going to start a conversation. 

“Hermione,” he started, “we’ve been seeing each other for a month now. But we’ve been friends for a few months. And I known you since we were eleven.” 

“Where are you going with this?” She frowned. 

“I know when something is bothering you because you wear it on your face. I’ve even asked Ginny about it, but she said she was not going to approach you until you were ready. It’s been a week, Hermione. Was what he said really that bad that you’re not ready to talk about it yet?” He looked down into her eyes. 

“It’s nothing like that, Draco,” she waved away his concern. Then, biting her lip, she peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. 

“I’m worried that he won’t be my friend anymore,” She admitted. 

“Oh,” Draco exhaled in realisation, gathering her in his arms. “I don’t know much about the Weasel, but I know he’s loyal if anything at all. He won’t abandon your friendship over this. And if he does, well, then he’s dafter than I thought he was,” he chuckled. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. Burying herself further in his arms, she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. Pressing her face into his thick wool jumper, she sighed in bliss. 

“You smell nice,” she mumbled. 

“Thanks,” Draco replied, clearly amused. 

“Um, Draco Malfoy,” a Third Year hastily stopped in front of them in the reading area, interrupting their private moment.

“Yes?” He asked neutrally, although he was upset that their moment had disappeared. 

“The Headmistress is looking for you!” The Third Year blurted. Draco informed him he would be on the way, and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. 

“I suppose I better go see what she wants,” Draco got up with a grunt. 

“Mmhmm,” Hermione agreed, getting up after him and looping her arms around her neck. 

“I’ll see you at dinner?” He asked. 

She nodded and placed a slow kiss on his lips, bidding him farewell. Then, she packed her things and headed for the Gryffindor Common Room, where she planned to get some afternoon revision done before heading down to dinner. 

She bumped into Ginny and Neville playing exploding snap by the fireplace. 

“Hey,” Ginny called, patting the ground next to her. 

“Hi Gin, Nev,” Hermione smiled at her friends. 

“Herms, guess what!” Ginny gushed in excitement. 

“What?” Hermione asked. 

“They’re having the Yule Ball again!” 

Hermione cringed instantly, a reminder of the sour turn her last Yule Ball took. 

“Who are you two going with then?” Hermione asked politely. 

“Each other, of course!” Ginny beamed. Hermione recalled Neville taking Ginny to the last ball and that the two of them genuinely had a good time. 

“We’re both kind of otherwise involved, so we’re going as friends,” Neville admitted shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You’re dating someone?” Hermione’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t blind; Neville had certainly grown into his looks and he had always been a sweet and kind boy, it was no wonder someone took an interest in him. 

“Hannah Abbott, from our year,” Neville trailed off. Hermione’s jaw dropped and Ginny smirked proudly. 

“We connected over the summer,” Neville explained at Hermione’s shocked expression. Hermione knew that Hannah worked part-time at the Leaky now, while also apprenticing as a healer at St. Mungos. She did not return to Hogwarts this year, so the thought of Neville and Hannah seeing each other never crossed her mind. 

“That’s great,” Hermione squeezed Neville’s shoulder, “I’m so happy for you, Neville.” 

“Anyways, we have to go shopping, you lucky girl,” Ginny beamed, “you’re a Champion’s date both times!” 

Hermione laughed awkwardly, as though suddenly realising that she had accepted Viktor’s date last time. She would be seeing him at the ball- how would he react to her going with Draco? She did not have romantic feelings for Viktor, but he was a great friend, and she most certainly did not want to hurt him with her new relationship.

She sat with Ginny and Neville for a while longer until she decided she could hold off on her revision no more and went up to her room.

* * *

Draco had his arm around her as they sat in an archway overlooking the Black Lake. It was after dinner and they had both finished all their work for the day, or for the week in Hermione’s case, and were spending a quiet night together. 

“So, what did Professor McGonagall want to talk to you about? I presume it had something to do with the Yule Ball?” Hermione asked. 

Turning his gaze on to her, Draco spoke, “You’re absolutely right. She wanted us to know that all the Champions required dates, since we had to do the first dance together.” 

“Well,” said Draco after a moment of Hermione not responding, “you are going with me right?” 

“That depends on whether you’re asking,” Hermione teased. 

Draco huffed out a laugh. 

“Hermione Granger, will you do me the honour of being my date for the Yule Ball?” 

“Yes, I would love that,” she whispered, snuggling into his neck. Draco kissed the crown of her head and began lacing and unlacing their fingers together. 

“What should I wear?” Asked Hermione, while cuddling closer to him for warmth. Draco murmured a warming charm and turned his attention to her. 

“Whatever you pick, I’m sure you’ll look gorgeous,” Draco replied. 

“Cute, you’re trying to flatter me,” Hermione smirked, pinching his thigh. 

“I mean it,” he said sincerely, grey eyes twinkling in the moonlight, “you’re gorgeous without even trying.” 

Hermione was thankful for the cover of night because she didn’t want Draco to see her raging blush. 

Draco seemingly had other ideas about what he could get away with under the cover of night, as his hand slowly slid up her thigh. Giving her thigh a gentle squeeze, he tipped her chin up to meet his in a gentle kiss. Hermione’s hands slid up his chest to rest at the base of his head, playing with some of the blond hairs there. Draco tilted his head and deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up her thigh to her waist. 

He gripped her waist for a moment before switching gears. Putting both his hands on her waist, Draco managed to slide Hermione on to his lap. Her arms wound around his neck, as she continued kissing him fervently. 

Breaking apart for air, Draco smiled at her. “Hi,” he murmured. 

“Hi,” she whispered back, reaching down to kiss him again. When they heard footsteps, they reluctantly broke apart. 

“I suppose we should head back to our dorms,” Hermione said, rather disappointedly. She knew that the footsteps meant students were returning to their dorms from the Great Hall, which meant dinner was over and curfew was approaching. 

“Right as always,” laughed Draco. He placed a kiss on her cheek and held out his arm. 

“I’ll walk you back, c’mon,” he tilted his head in the way of the Gryffindor Common Room. 

* * *

As the Yule Ball steadily approached, Ginny brought Hermione shopping for dresses. They spent their last Hogsmeade weekend scouring all the available shops until their found dresses to their liking. 

Hermione chose a plum coloured floor-length gown, with an off-shoulder cut. Most importantly, it had long sleeves and she could cover up her scar, which she was slowly working on accepting. She wondered how Draco would dress. Personally, Hermione was not much for matchy couple outfits, although she would concede that wearing colours that complemented Draco’s clothes would be nice. 

“Hey,” Draco said as he slid into the seat next to hers. She was using an empty classroom to revise because she knew she would not get any studying done come the Yule Ball on Saturday. This time, the organisers of the Tournament decided to have the ball on the 23rd, so that students who wanted to go back to their families for Christmas could do so. 

“Hi,” she smiled at him, angling her cheek, allowing him to place a kiss. Draco tilted her face and placed a quick kiss on her lips instead. 

“What are you doing for Christmas?” He asked her, rummaging in his bag for his roll of parchment. He was working on a Charms essay. 

“Nothing much,” she replied, “I’m staying in school.”

“Not going to the Weasleys’ this year?” He asked. 

She shook her head. “Mrs Weasley and George are nowhere near ready for a huge Christmas party. And my parents,” she swallowed thickly, past the lump in her throat, as she thought of her parents who had since re-relocated to England but she still felt as though continent away from her, “are going to Thailand for a holiday. They want to spend time in sunny weather.” 

“Great,” he smiled. Then, realising how insensitive that sounded, he hastily amended, “I meant, my Mum wants to meet you. I was hoping you would come with me to Hogsmeade for lunch? She’s coming down to visit me.” 

“Oh,” Hermione chewed her lip, “she knows about us?” 

“Yes,” he drew out the word, “is that okay?” 

“Yes, it’s fine,” she nodded. “But I haven’t told my parents, Draco. We’re still on thin ice with each other and I don’t want to overwhelm them.” 

“I understand,” he smiled kindly, stroking her hands. 

“What about your father?” Hermione asked with caution, knowing that talk about his father was a touchy subject for him. 

“He has chosen to stay at home. I suppose he is not yet comfortable out of our Manor grounds, neither is the world comfortable with him.” He said with a note of finality, signalling that he did not want to talk about his father any further. 

He then reached into his bag and pulled out a box. She recognised the logo on the box as the one of the jeweler in Hogsmeade. During their last Hogsmeade trip, Draco and she parted ways in the Village, as he insisted he had an errand he needed to run alone. 

Draco slid the box towards her. 

“Here,” he said softly, “a pre-Christmas gift. For you to wear to the Yule Ball.” 

She opened the box to see a delicate silver chain. Hanging on it, a pendant in the shape of an open book, with a sizeable heart-shaped diamond on the cover. She gaped at the gift for a moment before looking up to meet his hopeful expression. 

“Draco,” she breathed, “it’s gorgeous. And surely worth a small fortune. You didn’t-”

“Have to; I didn’t have to, I know. But I wanted to. I’d love to buy you anything if you’d let me, Hermione. I’ve got a vault full of gold to spoil you with,” he laughed. 

“I appreciate it, Draco. But I’m dating you because I like you, not because I like your Gringotts’ vault,” she informed him haughtily. 

“Yes, I know,” he laughed again, pulling her body against him and burying his face in her soft curls. He inhaled the fruity scent of her shampoo contentedly.

“But let me spoil you?” He requested, nuzzling her neck. 

“Fine,” she pretended to be grumpy, but it was oh so hard when your boyfriend was cuddling you and promising to buy you gifts. 

* * *

When the Yule Ball arrived, Hermione more excited than she did the first time around because she would be spending the ball with the boy she wanted to this time. She got ready, taking extra care to look good, and met Ginny and Neville in the Common Room. They would be heading down together, where Draco and the other Champions would be waiting outside the doors of the Great Hall, as per Professor McGonagall’s instructions. 

As soon as she laid her eyes on Draco, she swallowed. He looked amazing in a set of black silk robes, tailored to his every inch. He was wearing a silver tie that gleamed and brought out the silver of his eyes. His hair was artfully tousled. 

“Hi,” she whispered when she approached him. He looked up at her, then down to her neck where the chain he gave her was resting, and a huge smile broke across his face. 

“You look beautiful,” he gushed, pecking her forehead. 

“You look very dashing yourself,” she replied shyly, tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow. 

“Nervous?” He asked, glancing down at her as the Champions and their dates lined up to enter the Great Hall. 

She nodded, “Nobody knows we’re a couple. I wonder what they’ll say when they see us together?” 

“I don’t care what they say,” announced Draco. “I’m here with you and that’s all I care about.” 

Before Hermione could respond, the doors to the Great Hall opened up for the Champions to enter. Draco and she were the first ones through and she could feel a sizeable chunk of the Hogwarts student body gaping at her. Those who didn’t catch her snogging Draco in Hogsmeade would have probably been even more surprised, but before she could even feel nervous because of all the attention, Draco’s hand rose to cover hers. He gave her hand a quick squeeze and glanced down at her reassuringly. They took their place on the dance floor and had their first dance with the other two couples. 

When their dance ended, Draco led Hermione to a table where most of their friends were seated. Ginny and Neville were seated together, with Ginny already making headway through her food. Blaise, who was accompanied by Pansy, and Theodore who was alone, also sat at the table. 

“What a way for you to reveal your relationship,” snickered Theodore as they both sat down at the table. 

“Big talk for the only single guy at this table,” Draco snarked. 

“Hey, I’m a free agent,” Theodore raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“You look wonderful, Hermione,” Neville turned to her. Ginny chimed in with her agreement. 

“Thank you both,” Hermione smiled kindly at her friends. 

The group chatted for awhile, and the flush of happiness never left Hermione’s cheeks, as Draco’s hand held hers under the table and continued to stroke small circles on it. Their conversation, however, was interrupted when someone tapped Hermione’s shoulder. 

“Hermy-own-nie,” said Viktor, “vould you care to dance?” 

“Oh, Viktor,” Hermione turned around in surprise. She got out of her seat, with a quick glance to Draco to gauge his reaction. He nodded them off and turned back to the group. 

“Sure,” she took his offered hand and allowed him to lead her back on to the dance floor. 

“Feels very different from 4 years ago,” she laughed. 

“Yes,” he agreed, dark eyes trained on hers. 

“Was there something you wanted to ask, Viktor?” She asked him after a moment or two of him gazing straight into her eyes. 

She saw a light flush creep up his neck. “I vas vondering, are you dating him? Malfoy?” 

“Yes,” she blushed. 

“Oh,” he seemed rather disappointed. “He treats you vell? I remember he vas not so nice vhen ve came last time.”

“He’s changed a lot. He treats me well, Viktor,” she informed him. 

“Good,” he smiled his normal smile, so kind and warm, at her. As their dance slowed to a stop, he brought her back to her table. 

“I vant you to be happy. Ve vill still be friends, yes?” 

“Yes, yes, of course. You will still write to me?” She queried. He smiled and nodded.

“Can’t deny that I’m a little jealous,” Draco whispered in her ear, giving her cheek a sweet kiss when she got back to her seat after her dance with Viktor.

“He just wanted to know if we were together, that’s all. That door has closed for me, Draco,” she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder. She missed Theodore shooting Ginny a smug look and Ginny flashing him an impolite gesture in return. 

“I only want you,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek in return and getting up to retrieve more Butterbeer for them. Draco gaped at her. 

As soon as she returned, he pulled her onto the dance floor for another dance after another dance, and kissing her deeply when the night ended, both fully content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my friends! i hope u like this chapter :)) also next week will be the last of the relationship-y chapters as we go back to more of the triwizard tournament and stuff


	9. Chapter 9

When Christmas day approached, Hermione rose and descended the stairs down to the common room. Ginny was waiting for her, having already gathered their presents from underneath the huge tree in the common room. Few students stayed behind for the holidays, with Hermione and Ginny being the only ones in their shared year to remain in Hogwarts. Neville had gone back home so he could spend the next 2 weeks with Hannah Abbott. 

“Here,” said Ginny, shoving a pile of presents in Hermione’s arms. She opened the first one, a package that was obviously from her parents, and it contained some Muggle CDs from artists she liked. Mrs Weasley had sent her, and Ginny, a christmas sweater. 

Harry gave her a personalised writing set, with paper embossed with gold, a set of fancy eagle feather quills and a bottle of high quality ink. He sent Ginny a charm bracelet with a golden snitch charm hanging off of it, which Ginny adorned with delight. 

Ron had given Ginny some expensive chocolate and he gave Hermione a basket of her favourite sweets from Diagon Alley. Neville had given both of them scarves and they had owled off a pair of dragonhide boots they bought together for him. 

“Hermione!” Called a Fifth Year who had just returned through the portrait hole. “Malfoy is outside waiting for you.”

Hermione was about to scurry off to see him, but halted just in time to head up to her room and retrieve his gift. 

Draco was waiting outside the portrait hole, leaning against the wall next to the Fat Lady painting. 

“Hi,” he smiled as soon as he saw her come through, “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”

“Happy Christmas, Draco,” she wished him back, reaching up to kiss him. Her hands slid up his woolen jumper to rest on his shoulders, Draco’s hands cupped her face. 

She pulled back after a moment, with flushed cheeks, unable to keep the smile off her face. 

“I got you something,” she began, feeling rather nervous that her gift was inadequate in comparison to whatever he would gift her with, “it’s nothing big, but I thought you’d like it. And if you don’t, that’s alright! I just-” 

Draco cut her off with a peck on the lips. “I’ll love it- whatever it is.” 

She thrust a small rectangular box in his hands. With slight trepidation and curiosity, Draco opened it. Inside, a sleek black fountain pen was encased. 

“It’s a fountain pen,” Hermione explained. “Muggles use this to write instead of quills. It’s far more efficient.” 

“I love it,” he grinned. His hands fished around in his pocket for her gift. He retrieved a small box, pressing it into her palm. 

“Draco,” his name tumbled out of her mouth in pleasant shock and surprise when she opened the box and saw a pair of diamond drop earrings. 

“What can I say?” He asked cheekily, face pressed into her hair. “I love to shower you with diamonds.” 

Hermione reached up to cup his face, kissing him softly on the lips in appreciation. When they broke apart, Draco slung an arm around her shoulders. 

“Mum will be waiting for us at noon for Christmas lunch. I’ll stop by to pick you up before we head down.” 

“Sure,” she agreed, kissing his cheek. She slipped out from under his arm and back through the portrait hole, so that she could get ready to meet his mother. To say she was nervous was an understatement. After all, this was Bellatrix Lestrange’s little sister. Who knew what the witch was capable of if she disapproved of Hermione for her precious son. 

As half past eleven rolled by, Hermione slipped out of the portrait hole to meet Draco. She had dressed modestly in a turtleneck and ankle length skirt, with a pair of her nicer navy blue robes over her outfit. She had brushed and plaited her hair. Her neck and ears were adorned with the jewelry Draco had bought her. 

Draco was already outside her dorms, leaning against the wall next to the Fat Lady painting, waiting for her. His arms were folded across his chest. 

“Draco,” she called out, alerting him to her presence. 

“Hey you,” he smiled, reaching for her. He pulled her into his arms for a quick kiss. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, then as if sensing her worries, he followed up with, “I’m sure she’ll love you.” 

“I hope you’re right,” chuckled Hermione awkwardly. 

“Don’t be worried,” assured Draco, pecking her head. 

They walked hand-in-hand to Hogsmeade. Draco brought her to a restaurant and informed the front of house that he was there to meet a ‘Madam Malfoy’. 

“Right this way, sir,” said the man, leading Draco and Hermione to a table in the back. 

“It is an honour to have Ms Granger dine with us, I will be back shortly to take your orders,” informed the man, leaving Draco and Hermione to have a seat. 

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that Narcissa Malfoy was joined by her husband, Lucius Malfoy. He was looking a bit better since she last saw him, likely that the relief of being acquitted and free brought the colour back to his skin. 

“What are you doing here?” Draco snapped in accusation at his father. His lips curled up in anger as he directed his heated gaze to his father. If it were possible, Hermione saw Lucius Malfoy shrink in his seat just the tiniest bit. She was surprised as she had never, ever seen Draco talk to his father like that before. 

“My dragon,” implored Narcissa, “why don’t the two of you have a seat?” Her elegant hand gestured to the empty seats across the Malfoy couple. 

Draco pulled out Hermione’s chair for her and waited for her to sit before he did the same. 

“Now that we’re seated,” said Draco sarcastically, “why are you here?”

“It’s Christmas, darling. We always spend it together,” Narcissa replied on behalf of her husband. This only fueled Draco’s ire. 

“That’s rich. We haven’t had a family Christmas in 2 years.” 

“Draco,” Lucius began warningly, sounding much more like the man Hermione knew. 

“No, father, I won’t stop. I wanted to have a nice Christmas with my girlfriend and introduce her to mother, but you had to come along and just let us all know that you disapprove. I don’t care what you think!” Draco huffed angrily, sounding rather petulant. 

Hermione was unsure of what to say, let alone how to mediate. 

“I don’t disapprove,” Lucius whispered. 

“Don’t lie to me!” Heaved Draco. “Nothing I ever do is good enough for you. Haven’t you ruined my life enough?” 

Without awaiting a reply, Draco tore out of the restaurant, leaving Hermione behind with his parents. She could see Lucius deflate and reach out for his wife’s hand. She gave his hand a squeeze and they shared a look, which Hermione could not even begin to decipher. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” she blurted out and followed after Draco.

She found him sitting on a bench just outside the restaurant, head in his hands. 

“Draco,” she wrapped her arms around him. He buried his face in her shoulder, and from the telltale shake of his shoulders, she could tell he was crying. 

“I’m so angry at him, Hermione,” he sobbed. “He ruined my life. Why can’t he just leave me alone?” 

She pulled away from him so she could look into his eyes. His grey eyes were now red-rimmed and tears made their way down his face. She knew Draco had a temper, but he usually hid his emotions well. She had never, ever seen him react with such explosiveness and volatility. 

“He wants to talk about family now. But not when he landed himself in prison or when I was sold to the Dark Lord because of him,” Draco gasped out, as his sobs slowly subsided. 

“He is my father; he was supposed to protect me. Instead, he left me to get thrown to the dogs,” his voice was strangled. Hermione stroked his hair, trying to comfort him. It took a few moments for his breathing to settle from his sobs and for him to calm down. 

“Draco, your father genuinely wants to make amends. He seemed upset when you left. I can’t say that you need to forgive him immediately, but maybe a nice Christmas lunch together can’t hurt? Would you be alright with heading back? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Hermione suggested gently. 

“Fine,” he acquiesced, getting up and wiping his palms on his robes. He took her hand in his and walked back into the restaurant to face his parents. 

Lucius and Narcissa remained seated, although they were leaning towards each other and speaking in hushed tones. They straightened up immediately when they caught sight of Draco and Hermione’s return. 

“So where were we?” Draco asked tartly after flopping down into his seat. 

“Darling, I would like to say I am so glad to see you. I’m so happy to know you’re doing alright in school. And,” here, Narcissa’s tone became cooler and crisper, “Ms Granger, how lovely of you to join us.” 

She clapped her hands together once to show her delight and beamed at her son. She withdrew an envelope from her pocket and slid it across the table to Draco. 

“A Christmas present for you,” she said, then she gestured between her husband and herself, “from us.” 

“It’s a title deed for a house in London,” Lucius explained. “I know it breaks our family tradition to live outside of the Manor, but,” his cool grey eyes slid their gaze over to Hermione, “we thought you might want to spread your wings a little.” 

“You’re giving me a house in London?” Draco asked, dumbfounded. Hermione, too, was dumbfounded for an entirely different reason. She could not imagine how the Malfoys just  _ bought _ a  _ house _ in London, with what must have been not even a dent in their vaults but more money than she would have ever seen in her lifetime. 

“Yes, Draco,” his mother said kindly, “for you to be independent. I assume you wish to entertain company in a space that is entirely your own.” 

“You bought me a house so that I can have Hermione over and away from the two of you?” He asked again, bluntly. Even Hermione wanted to chastise him for his framing of his question because of how quickly Narcissa and Lucius’ countenances shut down and they looked so dejected. 

“I understand that the Manor doesn’t bring back pleasant memories for you- for either of you, and-” 

Draco cut his mother off, “So you approve of my girlfriend?” 

“I can’t say we’re thrilled, but anyone can see from your letters alone how happy she makes you, Draco. We would be fools to oppose that.” Lucius spoke softly, gazing at his only son with a sort of tenderness that made Hermione’s heart ache for her boyfriend and his broken family. 

“Ms Granger,” Narcissa finally addressed her, “Lucius and I are so thankful for the happiness you have brought back into Draco’s life. He is the light of our lives, and it pained us greatly to see him suffer so. Rest assured, you are welcomed into our family with open arms.” 

“And into our home, if you so choose it,” Lucius added. 

“Thank you Mrs Malfoy, Mr Malfoy. I want to let you know I care about your son, and I appreciate the both of you coming to meet us and for letting me spend Christmas with you.” 

“It’s no problem, I already told you,” Draco replied for them, not ready to address everything his parents had said just yet. 

“How did you meet?” Asked Narcissa, after their drinks had been placed in front of them. 

“We met in First Year,” Draco said sarcastically. At one sharp look from his mother, his smirk dropped. 

“We reconnected when I offered to help him with the Tournament. We became fast friends and then-”

“-you kissed me,” Draco said smugly. He draped his arm over the back of her chair. 

“What spurred this?” Lucius choked out, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of their conversation. 

“He was apologising for all the nasty things he said to me when we were younger. And then, he revealed that he kind of helped Harry and Ron defeat the Basilisk when I was Petrified.” 

“My Dragon! So brave,” Narcissa cooed at her son. 

“Mother, I barely helped,” Draco grumbled in embarrassment, cheeks heating. 

Narcissa must not have heard him and she badgered Hermione with questions about their relationship. 

After lunch was over, they stood to leave. Before Draco and Hermione walked out, Narcissa pulled them both into a fierce hug, which Lucius awkwardly joined.

“Bye, my darling Draco, Hermione,” she bid them farewell. Lucius nodded at the both of them. 

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Hermione asked, bumping Draco with her shoulder lightly. 

“No,” he admitted, running a hand along his jaw, “I suppose it was nice to see them. I do miss them whenever I’m at school.” 

“Of course you would, Mummy’s boy,” she teased. 

“Hey!” He replied, affronted. He grabbed a snowball and tossed it at her. She squealed and tackled him, as they both fell into the snow. Her face hovering above his, she reached down and kissed him. 

He looked up at her reverently when they pulled apart. “I love you,” he said tenderly, hands coming up to wrap around her waist. 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short update, but i wanted to introduce the malfoys and the family dynamic they have in this fic. i'm willing to accept that lucius malfoy wasn't a good father or that he wasn't a hands-on father (especially compared to arthur weasley who's like the best dad) BUT i think its p much canon that he loves draco and would risk his life for his son. narcissa loves draco unquestioningly. are they a little too forgiving here? yes. but i like fics where draco has a good relationship with his parents bc i dont think there's anything in canon to suggest that he did not come from a happy family, or at least until lucius got sent to azkaban.


	10. Chapter 10

“Hermione,” Draco murmured, his head in her lap. They were sitting by the Black Lake, on a patch of grass which Draco vanished the snow on. It was just after classes on a Wednesday, so they still had a few hours until dinnertime. Hermione would normally prefer to spend her time revising, but Draco convinced her to come out to the Black Lake. 

“Yes?” She replied, pausing momentarily from stroking his hair. 

“When was the Second Task the last time around?” 

Although the time they spent in between the two tasks was wonderful, in which Draco and she got to explore their burgeoning relationship and enjoy their time with each other, it was inevitable that as time passed, they would be moving closer to the next task. 

“It would have been a couple of weeks from now,” she mused. He extricated her hands from his hair and sat up, still holding on to her hands. They faced each other now. 

“Mum hasn’t written to inform me of anything,” he frowned. She gently flicked his forehead. 

“Mummy’s boy,” she teased. His frown deepened and he playfully pinched her side. Draco eventually settled himself back on the ground, with his head on her lap. She pulled a book out of her bag and started reading, leaving him to stew in his own thoughts for awhile. 

Eventually, their warming charms started to wear off and she could tell that it was dinnertime. The couple got off the ground with their belongings, and headed into the Great Hall. Draco pecked her forehead and they parted ways at the entrance, heading over to their respective house tables. 

As she dined with Ginny and Neville, she allowed herself to briefly wonder what the Second Task would be. They were unlikely to use the Black Lake again and they probably knew better than to kidnap the Champions’ loved ones to use as bait. 

She joined Draco at the entrance to the Great Hall after dinner and walked with him to the library, where they both spent time until curfew working on their homework. 

“Goodnight,” he bade her at the entrance to her common room, with a soft kiss and a hug. It was their ritual now to study together in the library after dinner and he would walk her back just before curfew. 

In the days that passed, nothing eventful happened with regards to the tournament. She wondered if there was a clue they were missing, or a sign they didn’t see that the other Champions did, and Draco was slipping behind. 

“Hey,” Draco greeted excitedly, taking a seat next to her in an empty classroom she was using for her revision. She smiled at him and tilted her head up for a quick kiss. 

“We’re one step closer to figuring out the next task,” he grinned. He stuck his hand beneath his robes and school shirt and untucked a chain. It was a plain string with a silver shard attached to it. 

“What is that?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s supposed to be a clue. Don’t know what it means though,” he said, scrutinising his chain. Professor McGonagall had apparently called the Champions in for a meeting in which she handed them each a chain with the silver shard on it. 

“Wonder if it has something to do with Alchemy?” Draco mused. 

“We should head to the library,” declared Hermione resolutely. “We’ll probably find the answers we need there.” 

Draco agreed and they headed off to the library. Hermione and Draco decided to split their research, with Draco looking over Alchemical and Potions texts and Hermione looking over texts about Magical Creatures. 

Hermione performed a quick searching charm and all the relevant books landed with a thud in front of her. 

She consulted  _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _ firstly, seeing as it was the leading authority on all of the magical creatures. Luckily, the Hogwarts library stocked the most updated version. 

As she flipped through the pages, she landed on the section about Occamies. There was a picture of a newly hatched Occamy, emerging from its egg, which was coated with pure silver. The egg had broken into shards and did not look too different from the chain Draco bore around his neck. With a flick of her wand, all the books were sent flying back to their rightful places on the shelves and she went in search of Draco, textbook in hand. 

She found him poring over an Alchemical tome, his eyebrows adorably furrowed in concentration. Grabbing his wrist, she yanked him away from the shelves. 

“I’m assuming you found the answer?” He asked, more amused than anything else. 

“Occamies,” she supplied, “their shells are lined with silver. It looks just like your chain.”

“You’re serious?” He asked. She nodded, flipping to the page in the book for him to see. 

“You’re brilliant, Hermione!” He cheered, sweeping her up into his arms. He squeezed her tight, and she wrapped her arms around his middle. 

“Shh,” she hushed him, well aware that Madam Pince was especially vicious this time of the day, when most students hurried into the library to rush assignments before dinner. Draco, however, paid no mind to her concern, and kept his arms wrapped around her waist.

“I don’t know anything about Occamies, though,” she admitted rather disappointingly, staring angrily into his chest.

“It’s no worry, we can research. McGonagall said the next task is not for another month, so,” he trailed off, looking down at her. 

“We should start straight away,” asserted Hermione determinedly, “we need to gather as much information as we can so we can set out a strategy.” 

“Hey, hey,” Draco placated, running his hands down her arms, “We can do that. But we have time. You don’t need to worry so much.”

Hermione bit her lip and turned to face him. She was worried about him and what this task meant, but she also loved doing her research  _ properly, thoroughly _ , which she knew she would not achieve if she pored through the texts with her heart and not her mind. 

“Fine,” she agreed, “We’ll look through the books after class tomorrow.” 

Draco seemed satisfied at the idea. He deposited the book back on the shelf, threaded their fingers together and walked her out of the library. They walked down to the Great Hall, but bumped into Dennis Creevey, who sneered at the two of them, before shoving Draco with his shoulder. Hermione was taken aback by his change in behaviour. In all her time knowing Dennis, she knew him to be like his brother, enthusiastic, with a sweet disposition. 

“Who are you?” Demanded Draco, bristled. 

“Who am I?” Laughed Dennis mockingly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the great Draco Malfoy doesn’t recognise me.” 

“Dennis,” warned Hermione. 

“Shut up.” He snapped at her.

Hermione, offended, was about to interrupt him again, but he cut of her off. 

Turning his attention back on Draco, he continued, “I expect you want me to support you, my Hogwarts Champion who did so well in the First Task. I expect you want me to forget everything you’ve done to me,” he gestured to Hermione, “to  _ us _ \- the Muggleborns who are so lucky and blessed every single day to lick the dirt of your boot.” 

“I don’t-” Draco began, but Dennis continued his tirade. 

“I don’t give a fuck what you expect me to do, Death Eater,” he hissed menacingly. Towering to his height, he stood toe-to-toe with Draco. Hermione raised her wand and pointed at them warningly. 

“Dennis,” she snapped, “you two will stand down. Now!” 

Quick as a flash, Dennis revealed his wand hidden in the sleeve of his robe and disarmed her. Before Hermione could react defensively, her wand flew out of her hand and on to the floor. Dennis took advantage of the situation and disarmed Draco, who was equally as stunned. 

“Hermione,” Dennis said sharply, “I won’t attack you so long as you don’t interfere. My fight isn’t with you.” 

“There is no fight anymore, Dennis! The war is over!” Exclaimed Hermione. 

“Tell that to the younger years who are still having nightmares from last year. Tell that to the students who are suffering from everything we witnessed at the school. Tell that to my dead brother!” Dennis shouted at them. 

Taken aback, Hermione and Draco stared at Dennis in shock. 

“That’s right,” Dennis laughed mirthlessly, “your side tortured and killed  _ children _ , Death Eater.” 

Pushing past the two of them, he continued. “You know, when I put your name inside that cup, I was hoping you would come back fucking dead, like Cedric Diggory. There’s still two more tasks to go, so I’ll keep holding on to that.” 

Something snapped within Draco and he grabbed Dennis’ shoulder and yanked him around to face him. 

“You put my name in?” Draco screeched. 

“Didn’t think a Mudblood would be that smart, right?” Taunted Dennis.

Draco drew his fist back and punched Dennis, seething in anger. Recovering quickly, Dennis charged at Draco and tackled him to the floor. Hermione knew from experience this would not end well, so she went to retrieve Professor McGonagall. 

“Mr Creevey, Mr Malfoy, you will stop this at once!” Ordered the Headmistress as soon as she arrived on the scene with Hermione. The two of them were engaged in a scuffle on the floor, and had several cuts and bruises around their face and hands. 

Professor McGonagall stunned them both, allowing them to fall to the ground separately, and lifted the charm. They got to their feet and faced her. 

“You will come to my office at once. Miss Granger, I expect you to come along as well.” 

The Headmistress seated the three students down in front of her, while she sat behind her desk. 

“I cannot understand why the two of you would engage in such a hideous display.” She said sharply, looking at Draco and Dennis through her glasses. 

Hermione spoke up, “Headmistress, Dennis bumped into the two of us. He started saying some things about Draco and then he revealed that he put Draco’s name in the Triwizard Cup. Draco punched him after that, and then Dennis pushed him to the ground. That’s when I went to get you.” 

“Mr Creevey,” Professor McGonagall spoke, aghast, “I am appalled that you would think to put someone else’s name into the Cup. You have signed Mr Malfoy up for a very dangerous tournament against his will.” 

“And Mr Malfoy, no matter what has been said to you, you are not to resort to physical violence.” 

“He called me a Death Eater,” Draco replied, chagrined. 

“That’s what you are, aren’t you?” Taunted Dennis. 

“Mr Creevey!” Snapped Professor McGonagall. 

“I will be writing home for the both of you. Mr Creevey, since your parents are Muggles, we will have your House Head go down for a house visit. But, Mr Malfoy, I will be having your parents in the school with me, as soon as they are free.” She informed. 

Not waiting for them to answer, she dismissed both the boys. 

“Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall turned to her, with a wary and tired expression, “I suppose it was too much to hope that our students wouldn’t continue the fight amongst themselves. Would you tell me what happened? The two gentlemen have not displayed any signs of anger in my classes thus far.”

“I was walking to dinner with Draco, when we bumped into Dennis. I think Dennis is still grieving, Professor, and he took that out on Draco. He started shouting at him and saying things like Draco was responsible for some of the atrocities during the War. Then, as he was about to leave, he told us that he put Draco’s name in the Cup because he wished for Draco to die. Then, Draco got angry and punched Dennis and they started fighting.” 

The Headmistress removed her spectacles and rubbed the bridge of her nose with a tired sigh. 

“Would you be so kind as to talk to Mr Malfoy about not resorting to violence? I know he will listen much better if the lesson comes from you.” 

“Alright,” Hermione agreed. 

The next day, Draco was still in a sullen mood at breakfast. He received a letter by owl and his face soured. 

Hermione touched his shoulder gently to get his attention, “Draco, what’s wrong?” 

“My parents are coming down tomorrow to meet with McGonagall.” 

“Fuck,” he exclaimed angrily, “I hate being coddled like this.” 

“I’m sure it’s alright. It was a minor altercation, really, and Dennis has already apologised to me.” She replied. 

“That’s good then. Tosser had no business insulting you,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. 

“Draco,” she said, gripping his wrists, which we making their way up to cup her cheeks, “promise me you’ll behave rationally when your parents come.”

“Fine,” he huffed. 

“I love you,” she smiled at him. 

“I love you too. Let’s get to class,” he grabbed her hand and they walked together up to their first class of the day. 

The following day, Lucius and Narcissa arrived just after Draco, and Hermione’s, classes ended for the day. Instead of spending time together after class, Draco went up to the Headmistress’ Office, and Hermione went to the library to research Occamies. 

When Draco hadn’t come to get her by dinnertime, she decided to head down to the Great Hall herself. On the way down, she bumped into Draco and his parents, who were on the way out of the school. 

“Miss Granger,” his mother said warmly. Draco quickly made his way over to her side, tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow. His father simply nodded his greeting at her. 

“Mrs Malfoy, Mr Malfoy, hello. It’s good to see you both again.” 

“My sentiments exactly. We miss Draco so much, and we’re glad to see that you’re taking good care of him!” His mother said, patting Hermione’s cheek. 

“We’re about to head down to dinner, so,” Draco trailed off awkwardly. 

“Use your words, son,” Lucius chided.

“Are you on your way home?” Hermione asked, sensing where Draco was trying to go with his statement earlier. 

“Yes. I suppose we shouldn’t keep you both from yours.” Replied Lucius smoothly. He gave Draco a firm squeeze of the shoulder and nodded once more to Hermione. Narcissa hugged her son, and kissed his cheeks and forehead, much to his embarrassment, and kissed Hermione’s cheek. They bade Draco and Hermione farewell and made their way back to the Manor. 

“How did it go?” She asked Draco. 

“For once in my life, my father didn’t seem angry at me. In fact, he looked kind of sad,” said Draco disbelievingly. 

“It’s all sorted out, then?” 

“Yeah,” he swung their hands as they walked down to dinner, “I’ve just got detention for the next two weeks with Slughorn. But nothing much- just two hours after dinner.” 

“That wastes valuable research time.” Hermione grumbled. 

“Oh, never change, Hermione Granger,” laughed Draco. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i have to apologise for the quality of this chapter,,, it's not my best work. i've been really busy so i just wanted to put out a chapter that would move the story along. see you next week!


	11. Chapter 11

As soon as Hermione took her seat at dinner, Ginny accosted her.

“What’s this with Malfoy getting into a fight?” Asked Ginny. 

Hermione placed her fingers on Ginny’s forehead and pushed her back slightly. 

“Dennis Creevey started it,” Hermione defended. Ginny snickered. 

“Feels a bit juvenile, doesn’t it? Having gone through a war and then they come back and get into a fist fight?” 

“Dennis basically accused Draco of murdering Colin,” said Hermione as neutrally as she could. She knew firsthand how cruel the other side had been during the war and what atrocities they had committed. She grieved over Colin, as she did for all her other schoolmates who died when they were still children themselves. She knew that the Death Eaters deserved Azkaban, the lot of them. But she also knew Draco had changed. And that he was different. 

“Do you have any idea of how the Malfoys are being treated by the Ministry?” She asked Ginny. 

Ginny turned to her, intrigued, and pondered aloud. “All I’ve heard is that Lucius Malfoy is kissing arse to get back into their good graces. And Narcissa Malfoy is basically showing up at every fundraiser.” Her blue eyes slid over to where Draco was sitting, “He’s basically their ticket to the top. If he does well in this tournament and gets some recognition for Hogwarts, the Malfoy name won’t be so synonymous with dirt anymore. I bet that’s a lot of pressure, though.” 

“He hasn’t said anything. And he seems rather relaxed about the whole tournament.” Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. Ginny’s interest was clearly waning, as she shrugged and went back to her dinner. 

A tiny seed of doubt was sown into Hermione. Did Draco feel like he could not confide in her? 

When dinner was over, Hermione met up with Draco so they could spend time together before curfew as they always did. To make good use of their time, they went up to the library and began their research on Occamies. 

“It says here that they are hunted in the wild for their eggs- hey, what’s wrong?” Asked Draco when he saw Hermione’s deep frown staring across the table at him. 

“You would tell me if anything was bothering you?” She blurted out. 

“Is this about Creevey?” Draco narrowed his eyes. 

“No, Draco. It’s about the tournament. I understand that you’re very brave and smart but it is natural to be scared over a tournament like this. It’s scary and who knows what will happen. And I know your parents want you to win so you can get your position back in society and-” 

“How do you know what my parents want?” He snapped. 

“Ginny told me,” she looked up at him, alarmed at his tone. 

“The only thing my parents are is worried for me. They are the ones who got us into this mess and they know how to fix it. My performance in this tournament has nothing to do with it.” He replied with a tone of finality. 

“But, I-” 

“Look, Hermione, you know I can talk to you about anything. But I’m not ready to unpack this shitshow with my parents yet. So don’t ask anymore questions.” He sounded rather irritated. 

“Alright,” she pouted, “I’ll drop it. But I expect us to talk about it, Draco. I don’t want you to stew in this.” 

Draco turned back to his book and Hermione to hers. She knew she would have to pour herself into research but at the back of her mind, she still worried over Draco. They spent an hour going over their research until Draco grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. 

“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” he murmured, lips pressed to her hand. She looked up at him, startled. 

“I can tell you still want me to talk to you. And you’re not going to stop worrying about me until I do. I suppose that it’s one of the reasons I love you, Hermione.” 

He got up from his seat and made his way to her side.

“I’ve had a lot of difficulty coming to terms with everything that happened in my Sixth Year and during the war.” 

She nodded. “I’m not entirely sure what happened during your Sixth Year. Although I know Harry had suspected you and assaulted you, I never knew what actually happened.” 

“When my father failed our Fifth Year at the Department of Mysteries, the Dark Lord wanted to punish our family for his failures. He basically gave me a suicide mission to get back at my parents. I was to bring Death Eaters into the school and murder Dumbledore.” 

Hermione, sensing that Draco was growing agitated, took his hands in his and started rubbing soothing circles on his palms. 

“I lived a nightmare every day that year. I was only sixteen, and I knew I wouldn’t win in a duel against Dumbledore. And I was terrified for my mother and for me. He was going to kill us if I failed.” 

Draco’s gaze remained fixed on the table while Hermione’s searched his face for all the emotions he kept hidden behind his mask. 

“You have to believe me,” he said thickly, swallowing around a lump in his throat, “I didn’t want to kill Dumbledore. Or harm Katie or Weasley. I was trying to protect my mother and to stay alive.” 

“Draco, look at me,” Hermione beckoned, sliding her hands up to his face and cupping his cheeks, running her thumbs along his cheekbones.

His grey eyes found hers and she continued to speak. “You’re not the same wizard you were then.”

“I am trying to be a better wizard. For you,” he gave her a small smile. His hands gently tugged hers away from his face and he leaned forward to kiss her. 

“I love you, Draco. And I know your parents do too. We’re so proud of who you’ve become.” She reassured him when they pulled apart. 

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, to change the subject. Hermione knew he was still uncomfortable with confronting emotions head on, so she let him slide this time. She hid a sly smile as he powered through his research on occamies. 

“They’re so used to being hunted,” Hermione informed him after reading over a particular passage in a textbook, “that they are very sensitive to loud noises and flashes of light.” 

“So,” Draco trailed off, unsure of where she was heading with her statement. 

“So,” she smirked proudly, “You’ll have to learn non-verbal magic.” 

* * *

“What kind of spells do you think I should learn?” Asked Draco. 

Hermione, having practised non-verbal magic since she first took part in the DA, was quite adept at it. She agreed to help Draco out and they found an empty classroom to practise in. 

“I did this with Harry too,” she giggled at the similarities between the two, that they each kept resisting, “but we should start with a simple summoning charm.” 

She grabbed a quill from her bag and placed it on a table at the front of the classroom. She positioned Draco a few metres away from the table and instructed him to perform the charm. 

He grunted as he waved his wand about, trying to summon the feather to his hand. After a few unsuccessful attempts, he lowered his wand arm in defeat. 

“Here,” she grasped his wrist and repositioned his wand arm. “Simply focus your magical energy in your wand hand and push the idea of summoning the feather to the front of your mind.” 

With great effort and concentration, he managed to get the feather to slowly move through the air into his outstretched hand. 

“There you are!” She encouraged. 

“It’s so hard,” he complained, “how did you manage it?” 

“Remember those secret meetings we had in the Room of Requirement our Fifth Year?” 

“Yes,” he recalled, slightly mortified in the pleasure he took back then at being a glorified tattle tale, “what about them?”

“Harry used to teach us Defensive Magic because Umbridge wasn’t teaching us anything. He taught us everything, from Patronuses to non-verbal magic.” 

“You can make a Patronus?” Draco asked with interest. 

Rather than telling him, she decided to show him. With a flourish, she twirled her wand and an otter made of pure blue light trotted about and nuzzled her cheek. Draco gaped in amazement at her.

“How do you make one?” He asked, staring at her otter patronus. 

“It’s not easy,” she admitted, “but all you need to do is think of your happiest memory and concentrate your magical energy on it.” 

“What is your happiest memory?” He asked her. 

“When my parents brought me to the beach for the first time that I could remember. And they held my hands as I frolicked in the water, since I couldn’t swim yet.” She thought back with a fond smile. 

“How about you?”

“There was the time I flew a broom for the first time.” Then, he shook his head, dismissing the idea. 

“Remember when I came looking for you to apologise for that night in the Slytherin dungeons? And you jumped in my arms and kissed me? I think that was my happiest memory.” He smirked. 

He mimicked her wand movements from earlier and concentrated on pushing the happy memory to the front of his mind. A flicker of blue light rose from his wand but slowly went out. He looked disappointed but Hermione beamed at him.

“Most people can’t get on their first try. You just need practise,” she said.

“It’s a good thing I have such a good teacher then,” he grabbed her waist and pulled her into his arms, kissing her soundly. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this is so short but i wanted to keep my momentum going... i've been really busy w uni and exams are in a month-ish rip...


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again im rly sorry for the length and quality but i wanted to get something out to stay on my weekly update schedule. i hope u like it :^)

“Occamies can alter the shape of their body to fit whatever space they are in,” Hermione read aloud from her book. They were in the library after class, researching Occamies. 

“Interesting,” He replied, scrawling it on his parchment. She went on to explain the standard diet, weight and outer-covering of Occamies. He had grown quite bored with all the research into the creature, and he knew Hermione was picking up on this. 

“C’mon,” she shook her head with a knowing smile, “let’s go practise your non-verbal magic.” 

Draco spent weeks practising his non-verbal magic under Hermione’s tutelage in whatever empty classrooms they could find. They had slowly progressed from simple summoning charms to a disarming charm. 

“Okay, you need to point your wand at me and focus your magical energy into pushing the wand out of my hand.” Hermione instructed. 

Draco corrected his stance and held his wand out in front of him. Like with most of the non-verbal spells he had learnt, he struggled with them on his first try. Hermione, of course, made it look easy. 

With a soft grunt of effort from him, a beam of red light shot out from his wand and caused Hermione’s wand to fly out of her hand. She looked stunned for a moment, as he had never gotten a spell on the first try before. She went to retrieve her wand, while Draco stood proudly. 

“Well done! I’m so proud of you,” Hermione praised. She walked over to him and engulfed him in a hug. 

“It’s all thanks to you,” he murmured, tilting her chin up for a kiss. 

“You just have to remember to keep practising on your own,” she reminded when they pulled apart. 

“Yes, Professor,” he groaned. 

“Hey!” She frowned, pinching his side.

“Honestly, I’m really grateful for all of your help.” He tugged her by the waist into his side. Her arm slid around his waist, head resting against his shoulder. 

“It’s nothing, Draco, really,” she tried to brush it off.

“No, it’s not. Stop trying to play down all your hard work. You always go out of your way to help people, and it’s time they start showing you some appreciation.” He asserted. 

He knew he was hardly the person to talk about treating her right, but he knew for a fact that Potter and Weasley were hardly appreciative enough of her. She got them through everything for 7 years and he, in retrospect, wanted to shake them and make them show more appreciation for her. He, of course, had a long way to go in showing her how truly loved and adored she was, but he knew that. 

“I’m going to show you,” he swore to her, “I’ll make sure you know how amazing you are, Hermione.” 

“Draco,” she whispered his name reverently. He turned to face her, looking down at her. Tugging her into his arms, he rested his cheek on her head, atop her mountain of curls. 

“You’re the most precious thing I’ve ever had, Hermione. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.” 

“I love you so much,” he continued. They had moved apart slightly to gaze into each other’s eyes. Where the old Draco would have scoffed at the cheesiness of the whole situation, the new Draco felt very much convicted to keep Hermione happy at all times, which meant letting her know how much he loved and treasured her. Even if it had only been a few months, he knew in his heart that she was special. 

“You’ve actually made me cry tears of joy,” whined Hermione, whose soft caramel eyes were overflowing with tears. Draco swiped his thumbs across her face to wipe up the stray tears. 

“I swear if I ever make you cry again, it’ll be tears of joy.” He promised. 

Hermione laughed softly and burrowed herself in his arms, nuzzling her face into his jumper. 

* * *

The Second Task arrived much like the First Task, with the days leading up to it seemingly getting shorter and shorter. Draco was not nervous for this task because his non-verbal magic was the best it had ever been, especially considering he only had about a month’s practise. He knew that Hermione was worried for him because she got it into her head that the men in her life were useless. 

Personally, Draco knew he couldn’t blame anyone who had spent the better part of 7 years with Potter and Weasley and not write off their whole gender. They were exemplary in their ineptitude. He, however, would be the wizard who proved to Hermione that he was talented and capable (even though it was mostly her help that got him this far). 

The Champions were instructed to assemble in the Transfiguration classroom, along with the Headmasters of all the schools. There were to be no spectators for this event, so Draco was a little put out that Hermione would not be there to watch him. McGonagall had given some special consideration and allowed close friends of the Champions to wait in a designated room to receive their Champions. He knew Hermione would be there, along with Theo, Blaise and Pansy. 

“Mr Malfoy,” McGonagall’s stern voice had drawn him out of his thoughts, “you will go first since you are currently at first place.” 

She placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him out of the classroom into another classroom. This classroom looked unused, with dust and cobwebs, and scattered with knick knacks that were stacked haphazardly.

When he turned around, he saw an Occamy occupying roughly a quarter of the room, staring inquisitorially at him. Beneath it, he saw a glint of silver, which was the object he supposed he had to retrieve. He tried to summon the item non-verbally so as not to scare the creature, but he was unable to focus, with his pulse deafeningly pounding in his ears. 

He tried not to panic, especially when in front of the creature who would react to any sudden movement on his part. Remembering all that he had studied with Hermione, he tried to rack his brain for a plan.

His eyes darted around the room looking for a container or anything he could use to shrink the Occamy and get to the object he needed to retrieve. Wordlessly, he summoned what looked like a Dutch oven into his arms. The Occamy kept its keen eyes trained on him, but otherwise did not move.

He placed the empty pot on the floor on the other side of the room. Then, he plucked a button from his robes and transfigured it to a cockroach. He was not very successful, as it ended up looking like a fake cockroach, but he decided to try his luck nonetheless. Waving it in front of the Occamy, he hovered his fake cockroach in their air with his wand. The Occamy looked intrigued and began to rise from its position. 

All of a sudden, it lunged towards him and he quickly lowered the fake cockroach in the pot. The Occamy dived in and he replaced the lid tightly, sealing it with magic. 

The object appeared to be a flat piece of silver the closer he got to it. Picking it up, he hissed as he nicked his finger on one of the jagged edges. Before he could process anything else, the Ministry Official burst into the room and congratulated him for finishing the task. He was shown to the waiting room, where he saw Hermione, Theo, Pansy and Blaise waiting for him. 

Hermione scrambled off the bench and threw herself onto him, hugging him tightly. He could tell she was very worried, even though he appeared to escape this task relatively unscathed, especially as compared to the previous one. He gently eased her off so she could undoubtedly fuss over him until she was assured that he was fine. 

“Oh, Draco, I was so cross when they wouldn’t let us watch. I was worried that something bad would happen since you went into the room unsupervised.” Hermione lamented. 

“There’s some kind of mirror they’re using. To watch us,” he explained. “That bloke from the Ministry told me so after I finished. He basically burst in through the door when I was done.” 

“Speaking of which, what did you have to do?” Asked Theo, intrigued. He walked over to Draco and Hermione, who were until then, the only ones standing. Pansy and Blaise followed suit. 

“Retrieve this thing.” Draco fished the silver shard out of his pocket.

“Nicked my finger on it,” he whined, passing the shard to his friends so they could see. 

Hermione grabbed his hand and muttered a quick healing charm so that his tiny wound would heal. He looked at her expectantly until she rolled her eyes in exasperation and kissed his previously injured finger. 

“Draco,” Hermione asked, staring down at the shard in her palm, “do you still have that piece of silver Professor McGonagall gave you?” 

Draco rummaged under his robes where he still wore the piece of silver attached to a chain. He handed to her once he retrieved it. 

Hermione held up the two pieces of silver so the group could see. “Their jagged sides align. We’re supposed to fix them together, I think.” 

“How are you so fucking sharp?” Theo shook his head in amusement. Meanwhile, Draco was unsurprised yet astounded at his girlfriend’s intelligence. 

Draco took the pieces back from her and joined them together. A golden light emerged from the object and the two pieces fused together. They formed what looked like half a map. 

“Where’s the other half?” Hermione asked, frowning in confusion. 

  
  



	13. Chapter 13

“I think it makes sense,” said Hermione, looking at the slightly bewildered Slytherins before her, “that Draco would have to work with the other Champions. This tournament, after all, promotes international magical cooperation.” 

Pansy did not look too pleased. She crossed her arms and stared at the piece of silver in Draco’s hand. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“It’s worth a try,” Theo agreed with Hermione.

“What did you have to do in there, by the way?” Asked Blaise, head tilted towards the direction Draco entered from. 

Draco recounted his experience with the Occamy. Hermione took his hand in hers and pulled him off the bench with her.

“I think we should head outside. Surely the other Champions are done by now.” She announced. The group agreed and they all shuffled out of the room. 

Professor McGonagall was standing outside, receiving the Champions, along with Viktor Krum and Madame Maxime. Draco led their group over to receive the results. 

He had tied with the Durmstrang Champion for first place, with the Beauxbatons Champion occupying second place. This still put Draco ahead of the other two in the tournament overall. Hermione gave his hand a squeeze, still not comfortable with displaying overt displays of affection in front of the Headmistress and such a crowd. Pansy, Blaise and Theo had clapped his back in congratulations. They were then ushered into the Great Hall for lunch. 

“Will you sit with me today?” Asked Draco, not letting go of Hermione’s hand as they entered the Great Hall. Normally, they would split ways at the entrance of the Great Hall, and go to their house tables. 

“Is that allowed?” Hermione asked, eyes darting nervously over the other Slytherins. 

“Sure,” Pansy smiled, “and if anyone has anything to say, I’ll hex them for you.” 

“It’s settled,” Draco nodded happily. He sat with Hermione at his usual spot, surrounded by his friends. Viktor, and the Durmstrang Champion, Alexander, who were already sitting at the Slytherin table with the rest of their school, had materialised in front of them. 

“Hermy-own-nie, can ve sit vit you?” Asked Viktor, gesturing to Alexander and himself. 

“Sure,” Draco answered cooly. He had still yet to let go of her hand. In fact, he had lifted their joined hands up from where they were resting on the bench and onto the table in full view of everyone. Hermione saw Blaise hide a smirk behind his hand as Viktor and Alexander sat in between him and Theo, with Pany on Theo’s other side. This left Viktor facing her and Alexander facing Draco. 

Hermione knew that Draco was sensible enough not to instigate anything and that Viktor was not the type of person to intentionally make Draco jealous now that he knew she was with him. 

“I vish to congratulate you on your performance in the Tournament.” Viktor smiled politely at Draco, nodding his head in acknowledgement. Alexander chimed in with a similar sentiment. 

“Well, I was lucky to have Hermione as my teacher.” As Draco said this, his eyes slid over her. There was a warmth and affection in his eyes that Draco could never convey with words. Hermione felt her heart melt at the tenderness of the moment between the two of them, no matter how brief and how public it was. 

“She helped you vith the non-verbal spells then?” Alexander queried around a bite of his lunch. Draco nodded. 

“Hermy-own-nie is alvays very kind and helpful,” said Viktor in agreement. When Hermione felt Draco’s hand tighten around hers and felt him scootch minimally closer to her on the bench, she knew that all her earlier mental praise for Draco and his sensibility just flew out of the windows of the Great Hall. 

“Yes, my girlfriend is generous with her knowledge,” Draco’s tone was cool. 

“Oh you are her boyfriend now?” Viktor cocked an eyebrow. 

“Boys,” chastised Hermione. She could tell that Blaise and Theo were immensely enjoying the brewing tension between Viktor and Draco, while Pansy watched the scene with some apprehension in her eyes, likely sharing Hermione’s belief that this could turn out very, very wrong. Even Alexander looked uncomfortable, but it appeared that he didn’t dare to intervene. 

“Yes, I am, Krum. Do you have a problem with that?” Draco growled. 

“Maybe I think that there are better vizards, Malfoy. Ones who have alvays cared about Hermione.” 

Draco’s face set in a scowl. Hermione knew that he was insecure about how he treated her in the past and how it affected their relationship now. She had already forgiven him, after hearing and feeling his genuine remorse and seeing that he had changed into a wonderful and brave wizard. Even still, Draco deeply regretted how he had treated her and held it close to his heart that he mistreated her and bullied her. 

“Viktor, it’s fine, maybe we should talk about something else?” Hermione suggested rather sharply. She removed her hand from Draco’s hold and placed it on his shoulder. But he shrugged it off. 

“What? Like you?” Draco ground out, enraged, as he raised himself off the bench to tower over the seated Viktor. 

“Draco,” Hermione tried to calm him down, tugging on the sleeve of his robes to get him to sit. Viktor rose to the bait and stood to face Draco. 

“Maybe Hermy-own-nie didn’t choose me. But I still think she made a mistake vith you. You have not been kind to her,” Viktor said evenly. He was calm as he stated his ground, while rage was rolling off of Draco in waves. 

“That’s enough.” Stood Hermione, angry that these two wizards were having a fight over her. Immediately, the two of them turned to face her. 

“I can decide for myself whose company I keep. I do not need  _ either _ of you telling me who I should and shouldn’t spend my time with. I belong to myself and I will make these decisions for myself. Understood?” She asked. 

The two wizards nodded and sat back down. 

“I’m going to the library,” announced Hermione a moment later. “I don’t want to see either of you until dinner.” 

She kissed Draco’s cheek and rose from the table, leaving the Great Hall with an angry flick of her hair over her shoulder. 

“Maybe next time,” suggested Pansy snidely, “don’t try and treat her like she doesn’t have her own agency and free will, especially when she’s sitting right next to you.” 

She too got up from her seat, “I’ve had enough testosterone for now. I think I’ll head out too.” 

* * *

Hermione spent her time revising in the library, true to her words.

Eventually, Ginny came to find her and draw her out of the library so they could go to dinner together, where she had confined herself for the better part of 4 hours. 

“Parkinson told me you stormed off after Malfoy and Krum whipped their cocks out for a sword fight in the Great Hall,” snickered Ginny as they walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room to place their belongings back before dinner. 

“Oh my god, Ginny,” Hermione whispered, mortified, “they fought about which one of them I should keep as company.” 

“Ugh, men,” Ginny groaned sympathetically. She pats Hermione’s back in support, but with her unrestrained strength, causing Hermione to jolt. 

“So what are you going to do?” Ginny asked. “I mean you have two hot guys fighting over you. Maybe you could take advantage of this?” 

“No,” said Hermione firmly. 

“I’ll talk to Draco after dinner, but I think I will avoid Viktor for awhile. I understand his concern over Draco and my past, but his intervention was totally uncalled for.” 

At dinner, she noticed Viktor sitting at the staff table instead of with his students at the Slytherin table. The Durmstrang students were seated at the far end, near the staff table. Draco was with his friends towards the other end of the table. He had locked eyes with her as soon as she walked in. She shot him a smile and took her seat at the Gryffindor table. 

Once she had finished dinner, she stood and walked over to the Slytherin table. As though he could read her mind, Draco abandoned his dinner and crossed over to her. 

“I think we should talk,” she said softly, reaching for his hand. Allowing her to grasp his hand, Draco followed her as she brought them to the Room of Requirement. 

“I didn’t want anyone to find us,” she explained as soon as they entered. Sensing their needs, the room provided them with a plush sofa in front of a glowing fireplace. The room was dimly lit, with only the amber light of the fire. 

“Hermione, I’m sorry for how things got during lunch.” Draco apologised. They were seated on the sofa, their sides pressed against the back of the sofa, facing each other. 

“It’s not your fault, Draco. I was angry with you. But I understand that you have insecurities about our relationship. So do I,” she admitted. 

“What are you insecure about?” He asked.

“Honestly?” She scoffed bitterly, “That my blood status will somehow affect everything. I know we won the war but there are people who still whisper awful things about me when they think I’m not listening. I’ve always felt the tiniest bit like an impostor, and it still hasn’t gone away.” 

“I’m guessing I didn’t help you there much,” Draco swallowed a lump in his throat. His hands reached over to hers, one sliding up her arm to her scar. He unbuttoned her shirt sleeve, pushing it back and running his thumb along the puckered skin.

“I wish I even had half the courage you do,” he muttered. He reached to unbutton the sleeve of his own shirt, revealing his faded Dark Mark. 

“I wish I could rip the skin off and just bleed. I’m so sick of waking up and seeing this fucking thing. And carrying it around is a constant reminder of the person I was and the people I’d hurt. People like you. I’m terrified of the day you come to your senses and realise that I wasn’t worth the second chance you gave me.” 

“You’re such an amazing person,” she inched closer to him, “and I wish you could see how you’ve transformed. You’re not the same man anymore, Draco. You’re a good person now, I wish you could see that. I love you.” 

He gazed into her eyes for a moment, before reaching over to kiss her. His hands cupped her face while she tried to angle her body into a more comfortable position. She unfortunately lost her balance and fell onto her back. 

Draco leaned over her, leaning on the weight of his palms, which rested by either side of her head. 

“Come and kiss me,” she beckoned from beneath him. 

“So bossy,” he huffed in mock exasperation, bending down and kissing her heatedly, her arms winding around his neck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG i totally forgot to add the chapter last night, but here we go! 
> 
> also, for the next month or 2 (while i have my uni exams), i'm slowing down updates to once every two weeks! they'll go back to their regular schedule again after that. 
> 
> enjoy! :)


	14. Chapter 14

Draco continued kissing Hermione until his lungs screamed for air. When they broke apart, he gazed down into her eyes, which had become a little glassy. 

She smiled up at him with a dopey smile, scrunching her nose at him, which he found extremely adorable. His hands slid down her sides, resting at her waist. He gently eased his body over hers, his lips trailing soft kisses on her neck and jaw. 

“Mmm, Draco,” she moaned softly. Her hands had found their way to his head, threading her fingers in his fine blond hair. 

“I’ve- um, I’ve never done this before,” he admitted shyly when he pulled away from her neck, fearing how to pursue things further but also unsure of what to do in case things got heated.

“Done what?” She blinked up at him, confused.

For the first time, Draco was miffed at how dense she could be. Normally, he loved her obliviousness because it meant he could hold something over her head for once. But now, as he fought to keep an embarrassed blush off of his cheeks in front of his girlfriend, he wished she did not have to make him come out and say it. 

“This,” he sat up, gesturing between them. She followed suit, reaching out to grab his hands. 

“You mean you’ve never had sex?” She asked, trying to meet his gaze, which he kept trained on their joined hands. 

“Yes,” he sulked like a child, still unable to look her in the eyes. 

“Oh, Draco,” she simpered, “It’s okay. We can go slow. I’m not super experienced myself, but I’ve done it a couple of times.” 

“What?” He bristled, a sudden flare of jealousy that someone else got to be with his Hermione. 

“Ron and I slept together a few times since we started dating. And, um, there was Harry, too, when we were on the run,” she bit her lip shyly. 

“You mean you’ve slept with both of those idiots?” He asked, bewildered and envious.

“Yes,” she frowned, once again disliking his disapproval of her friends, “Ron was my boyfriend. And Harry, well, neither of us wanted to die virgins.”

“Besides,” she continued tartly, “just because you’re my boyfriend doesn’t mean I have to justify who I slept with.”

“It’s not that,” he laughed, in spite of their situation, “I would have very much liked to have some part of you that I didn’t have to share with them. But I now realise how archaic that sounds. As long as you’re my first time, then I’ll be happy.” 

She beamed at him. “I love you, Draco Malfoy.” 

“Me too, darling,” the term of endearment slipped out before he could help himself. He reached up to stroke her curls, leaning forward for another kiss. 

“Do you um,” she bit her lip, looking down at their bodies. Her hands were on his shoulders, his around her waist. 

“Yeah,” he answered nervously.

Hermione hesitantly ran her hands down his chest, then back up again. Her fingers slowly unbuttoned each button of his shirt and helped him shrug it off. Her fingers traced the puckered white skin that criss-crossed across his torso.

“Is this from Harry?” She asked. 

He nodded, his hands reaching down to hold hers. He shifted course and his fingers began working on her blouse, unbuttoning it like she did for him. He helped her slip her blouse off her shoulders. Immediately, his hands went to her breasts, covered in a simple bra.

“I’ve never seen these before. In the flesh,” he murmured, mesmerised. She let out a soft breath as his fingers began kneading her breasts and he resumed kissing her heatedly. When they pulled apart, she reached behind and undid the clasp of her bra. Taking it off slowly, she kept her eyes on his face to see his reaction. 

He stared, rather dumbfounded at what to do when presented with a real pair of breasts and not just the pictures he’d seen in the Playwizard Magazine he kept under his bed, hoping that his brain would kick into action and he would do something to not embarrass himself. Hermione took matters into her own hands, bringing his hands over to her breasts, encouraging him to continue the same actions he did not a moment earlier. 

He leaned over to her, lips making their way to her neck. He kissed her softly there, while his hands played with her breasts. Hermione’s hand wound its way down to his trousers. She started cupping him and gently stroking him through his trouser fabric and he had to stifle a gasp in the skin of her neck. She could tell he was growing hard, so she decided to change their pace. 

Her hands started working at his belt buckle, but Draco’s hands immediately flew to cover hers. 

“If you’re not ready, Draco, we can do this another time?” She suggested gently. 

“No, no- I’m ready. I’m just shy,” he mumbled, going red.

Shooting him an encouraging smile, Hermione waited until he removed his hands from over hers and gave her the go-ahead to continue undressing him.

Hermione undid his trousers and helped him shrug it off along with his underwear, while he removed his socks and shoes. Her fingers lightly wrapped around his cock and slowly began stroking it. Draco let out a sharp breath, his abdomen going taught at the sensation of her stroking him. 

“I’m going to finish if you keep doing that,” he said shakily, his hand pulling hers off of his cock. Hermione stood up from the sofa, removing the rest of her clothing and shoes. She slowly peeled her panties off, fully intending on giving him a little show. Once she was fully nude, she climbed into his lap and began kissing him anew. 

Draco’s hand curiously travelled further down her body, stopping at the patch of curls above the apex of her thighs. He cupped her softly but applied more pressure when she started softly grinding against him. Applying pressure to her clit, he drew circles around the area with his thumb, enjoying coaxing moan after moan from her. 

“Draco,” she whined, fingers reaching for his cock again. She attempted to adjust herself so she could slip him inside of her. His hands gripped her hips, helping to guide her down onto his cock. As soon as he was inside her, she let out a breathy moan, delighted at how well he stretched her out and how good he felt. 

“Oh, that feels nice,” she sighed contentedly, her hands running down his arms. He grunted in reply, encouraging her to move her hips. She gripped his shoulders for balance and began bouncing up and down on his cock. Within moments, he groaned loudly and spilled inside of her.

Draco buried his face in her neck in embarrassment, unwilling to look her in the eye after finishing too early. 

Her fingers grasped his chin lightly, tilting his face up to meet hers. 

“We can stop now if you’d like. Just lie here for awhile,” Hermione suggested. 

“But you didn’t,” he mumbled. His grey eyes looked so vulnerable in the moment that Hermione wrapped her arms around him tightly. 

“There are other ways, Draco.” She smiled and pushed them both back on to the sofa, so they were lying facing each other. His arm draped across her waist and she stroked his face.

“I wish the Earth would open and swallow me whole,” he muttered in self deprecation. 

“Hey, it’s normal for your first time. Ron, uh, performed similarly too,” Hermione reassured. 

“Thanks,” Draco drawled, “this is the moment in which I want to be similar to your ex-boyfriend.” 

“Hush,” Hermione tutted. Without much preamble, she guided his hand down to her cunt. He smirked at her and inserted his middle finger, slowly pumping in and out. Her own hand had travelled down to his cock and she started stroking him until he regained hardness. 

“Quick refractory period,” she noted, with a mild hint of delight. 

“What can I say?” He grinned lasciviously. Angling himself, he slipped inside of her again and began to thrust slowly. He kept his finger on her clit, providing her with toe-curling pleasure as his pace quickened. Already worked up from his earlier ministrations, it didn’t take long for Hermione’s orgasm to crash over her. She screamed his name, back arching. Draco used his other hand to steady her on the sofa. 

Soon after, he followed, grunting out a chain of expletives as he spilled himself inside of her a second time. 

He collapsed next to her, careful not to crush her as he fell to the sofa. Hermione shifted to pick her clothes up off the floor and to partially redress. She put her panties and her blouse back on, foregoing her jumper, skirt and socks. Draco did the same, reaching for his boxer briefs only. Once they redressed, he cast an enlargement charm on the sofa so it was wide enough for the both of them to lie on comfortably. 

“How was your first time?” Hermione asked, rolling around so she could face him. They both lay on their sides facing each other. Draco took a curl of her hair and twirled it between his fingers. 

“Good,” he smiled, completely blissed out. He reached forward to give her a slow kiss. He adjusted himself on the sofa, laying his head in between her breasts, allowing her to card her fingers through his hair and lull him to sleep. 

His eyes were drawing close when Hermione asked him another question. 

“Have you really never slept with anyone before?”

“Yes,” he said dryly, “that’s what being a virgin means.” 

She flicked the side of his head, clearly not satisfied with his answer.

“Pansy, um, put her hand down my trousers once, when were, like, fifteen. But that’s about it.”

“Oh,” said Hermione cryptically. “I’d always thought you’d slept with all the Slytherin girls in your year.” 

“No?” Asked Draco, confused. “Where did you get that idea?” 

“Um, the girls in our year would, um,  _ talk _ about the boys. And their sizes.” 

“What?” He asked, appalled. If he ever had such conversations about girls, which he might have nearly had, his mother would smack him upside the head. 

“Lavender was a huge gossip,” Hermione explained, “and she and Pansy Parkinson would put their differences aside to trade information. Then Lavender would share it with us girls in the dormitory.” 

“Well, who is it? Who is the ‘biggest’?” Asked Draco smugly, clearly thinking he would come out favourably in the girls’ discussion. 

“Blaise Zabini. And um, Harry,” Hermione blushed profusely. 

Draco, thoroughly put out, gaped at her. “Tell me you’ve never seen Potter’s cock.” 

“I have,” she squeaked. “When we were camping. Remember I told you I slept with him?” 

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned. 

“You’re not upset, are you?” Asked Hermione, suddenly unsure about herself.

“No,” he hastily assured her. “I mean I know it means nothing. He’s happy with Weasley’s sister and I’d like to think we’re happy. Right? It meant nothing, right?” 

“It was absolutely a ‘we’re-going-to-die-but-not-as-virgins’ shag.” Hermione agreed. 

“Hermione,” he looked up at her, “I’m not going to pretend that I’m not jealous. But it doesn’t bother me. As long as we’re together.” 

“You may not have been my first, but-”

“I’ll be your last.” Draco declared. Humming in contentment, Hermione nodded and let her eyes drift shut, revelling in Draco’s warmth as he wrapped his arms around her and succumbed to sleep himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obligatory smut chapter? yes! I hope this was awkward for you too... i've always imagined draco as a prude (i mean they were literally raised in such an antiquated society). though, i do enjoy my fair share of sex-god draco fics, i just think that in my head, he wouldn't be like that. plus, i tried to make this the unsexy-est sexy time ever! just to hammer in how awkward they are :)
> 
> see u in 2 weeks!


	15. Chapter 15

Draco knew that at the end of the school year, he would graduate and in doing so, have to enter the real world. And that was far scarier than anything he had to face in the Tasks. 

It was normally assumed that as the Malfoy heir, he would shadow his father in the running of their various ventures. He was also expected to be married and settled down in the Manor. 

And here lay the wrench in that plan. One, he wanted to study Alchemy full-time, Two, he did not plan to join the family business until later in life, Three, he did not want to get married just yet, and he bet neither did Hermione, and Four, he was not sure he would ever want Hermione to step foot in the Manor ever again. 

He knew he eventually wanted to marry Hermione, just not yet. He was only nineteen, after all. Maybe most Pureblooded folk got married around his age, like his parents, but he felt more modern now that he was exposed to Hermione’s muggle culture. She was much more liberal than he thought possible of a person, but he found he rather liked it.

Which therein presented another problem. Hermione, as liberal as they came, would surely butt heads with his parents, who were as  _ conservative _ as they came. If he ever wanted to marry her, surely he knew that they would have to get involved somehow. There was no way that would go smoothly. And then, he would have to meet her Muggle parents- he, who tormented her in her youth, who she likely complained to her parents about- and god knows what they would do to him. And after that, both sets of parents would have to meet! Draco felt himself grow slightly nauseous at the fact. 

The Ministry had sent everyone in the graduating class a pamphlet about the various careers and positions available for them upon graduation, which had caused his train of thought to spiral downwards in the direction that it did. He had taken a good glance over all the options available and promptly closed the pamphlet. All the work seemed either too boring or too strenuous. And besides, he wouldn't have to work there if he took up an Alchemy mastery. 

There were a couple of positions open in the Department for Care and Regulation of Magical Creatures that he knew for a fact Hermione would be interested in. But would she also be interested in moving in with him into his new flat that his parents had gotten him for Christmas? He needed to ask her about all of this but he felt way too nervous to do so. And he also had the Third Task looming ahead of him. 

He normally waited for Hermione to be done with her breakfast before he rose from his seat. They would meet at the entrance and together head to their first class, or he would walk her to her first class. His palms felt sweaty as he rose to meet her, knowing that he would need to have this talk sooner rather than later to give her the appropriate amount of time to sort everything out. He certainly did not want to step all over her ambitions and plans for the future. 

“Did you read the Ministry pamphlet?” She asked him excitedly. 

Swallowing, he nodded weakly. 

“There are a couple of positions in the Department of Law Enforcement and the Department for the Care and Regulation of Magical Creatures that I’m interested in. I don’t know what to choose, or if I’ll even qualify.”

“Hey,” he assured her, “we both know you’ll qualify for whatever you choose. You’re too bright not too. Plus,” he winked, “your name is excellent branding.” 

“Urgh,” she groaned exasperatedly, though unable to disagree with him, “Don’t remind me.” 

She tilted her head back and looked at him. “How about you?” 

“Me?” He asked, confused. 

“Yes,” she narrowed her eyes, “What are you interested in?”

“Nothing,” he admitted. Flushing, he realised how pathetic that sounded next to her passion and ambition.

“Well, I’ve always supposed you would have to go into the family business.” She shrugged. 

“Not that either,” he denied, just as they approached their classroom. Kissing her forehead before they entered, he nipped the conversation in the bud. “We’ll talk about this later.” 

Throughout class, he could tell Hermione was brimming with curiosity as she kept sneaking glances at him, as though trying to glean his aspirations from judging his side profile. When they were dismissed from class, she had grabbed his wrist with a gleam in her eye. 

“It’s later already,” she smirked, as though she had caught him in a trap. Unwilling to fight her on this, he resigned himself to spilling the beans about his future plans, or lack thereof. 

“Well, as you said, you didn’t want to go into the family business. What is that about?” She asked. 

“I was thinking of studying Alchemy before that. Gives me some freedom to do what I love before I inevitably enter the business.” 

“Oh, Draco,” she beamed, “that would be perfect for you!” 

Squeezing his hand, she peeked at him through her lashes, as they walked to their next class. The unexpected slyness of her look caught him off guard, even though he suspected she never intended her look to be sly. He felt a heat in his face as he steeled himself to ask her what had been weighing on his mind the whole morning. 

“Would you like to move in together? To my flat in Diagon?” He asked, looking down at her as they continued walking. She stopped in her tracks and pulled him aside to the side of the corridor. 

“You see, Draco,” she fiddled with the hem of her sweater nervously, and he steeled himself for a rejection, “I’d already agreed with Harry and Ron that I would stay at Grimmauld with them.” She peered up at his blank expression and hurriedly added, “And Ginny too! Ginny will be staying there too, so it will be the four of us.” 

The idea of her staying with Harry and Ginny, while it did not exactly please him, did not bother him as much as the idea of her staying with her ginger ex-boyfriend. He desperately tried to rein in his temper and jealousy so that he wouldn’t say anything untoward to her. 

“You confirmed this without telling me?” He asked as evenly as he could manage. 

She looked apologetic and guilty, which made her expressive eyes large and doe-like, softening his heart significantly. 

“Yes,” she admitted in a small voice. He could tell she was guilty about not telling him anything but he couldn’t hold it against her when they had only been dating for a few months. She had known her friends for years, he reasoned begrudgingly. Besides, she did not outright refuse to live with him in the future. Which he supposed would be the natural thing to do once their relationship continued and became more serious. 

“Also,” she continued, looking almost as comically guilty, “I wrote home to my parents about you.” 

Her gaze remained steadfastly on the floor so he could only imagine that she was about to deliver a blow to his ego and possibly his heart. “And they warned me not to get too close. Because they don’t think you’re a good person. So I don’t think they would support me moving in with you. And I agree with them. In that, we shouldn’t move in together yet. Who knows what could happen to us in the future?” 

Ignoring all the things she said about her parents, which he would unpack and brood over in his dorm room later, he focused on the last part. “What could happen to us?”

“We may not last, Draco.” She answered honestly, “I mean, we’re so young and this relationship is still new. Can we say anything for certain at this point?”

“Yes,” he swallowed around the rage and grief closing over his entire body. “I can say for certain that I intend to be with you for the rest of my life. That I will work out anything that throws itself in our path along the way.”

“Draco,” she gasped his name, reaching for his hand, but he pulled it away. Hurt and rejection marred her features. A small part of him felt vindictive, that it was good for her to understand some of the pain he felt. 

“Come. We’ll be late for class.” He bit out in frustration, walking a few strides ahead of her and dumping her things, which he had carried along the way, on her chair, with an unceremonious thump. 

Hurt, she turned to him in confusion. He ignored her, taking his seat and pulling out his books.

“Later.” Is all he said, ignoring her and the stares from the rest of the class. He didn’t care that it was obvious they were fighting, he didn’t care if he looked like the big bad Death Eater boyfriend who upset poor Hermione Granger. She knew what she had said and how it had hurt him and that was all that mattered. So long as she knew that he took their relationship very seriously and did not share her sentiments. 

After class, he waited for her, in spite of his simmering anger and hurt. He did not want to look at her, until his anger and hurt calmed down, and he could talk with her in that pragmatic way she always loved. But he had always been a bit of a hothead and he wanted her to take her words back, to assure him that she was not just dating him for fun but that she was serious about him too.

“Draco,” she tried, reaching forward to him, but he didn’t respond. Her hand sought his and he relented, allowing her to grasp his hand in her own. She pulled him aside to an alcove along the corridor and cast a  _ Muffiliato _ . 

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Draco. But we need to be realistic here.” Hermione said earnestly. 

“How am  _ I _ being unrealistic?” He asked, frowning. 

“I don’t believe in putting all my eggs in one basket.” She said sharply. Looking at his unchanging expression, “Muggle phrase,” she explained. 

Her explanation did little to deter him as he stared back at her just as determinedly.

“We are very different people, Draco. Nobody I knew expected us to work out for as long as we did.”

“That’s because everyone you know hates me!” He grumbled. 

“Well, I’m sorry if they don’t love the fact that you bullied me for five years.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Will we ever get past that? I’ve said I’m sorry so many times. I’m trying my best to change. But I feel like I’m never allowed to be better than who I was when I was fifteen.” 

Hermione’s countenance instantly softened. She reached up and cupped his cheeks. 

“I didn’t mean to bring that up. But you must know many people in my life can’t just switch over to seeing you in this new light. It wasn’t easy for me until I spent time with you and saw how wonderful you are now. In time, you and I will win them over. Besides, you’ve got Harry and Ginny on your side now. You’re a changed man, Draco, and I’m very proud of who are now. I love you and love having you in my life.” She reassured him.

Immediately, a warm sense of relief flooded through him. He could handle people being disdainful of his past, but if Hermione still thought less of him for it, he wouldn’t know what to do. Her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug.

“I don’t like fighting with you.” She said into his chest. His arms had come to wrap around her, his cheek resting in her hair.

“I don’t know what came over me. I just got really jealous of you staying together with Weasley and you not staying with me.” 

“Draco,” she sighed tiredly, “I have known Ron since I was twelve. I have absolutely no interest in him romantically. This I promise you. But I am comfortable staying with him and my parents are alright with it. You know that ever since their memories were restored, our relationship has been very shaky.” 

He nodded, looking down at her. 

“I don’t ever want to hear you doubting our relationship for Ron again.” She threatened, poking him in the chest for emphasis.

“I love you, and once we graduate, I will probably spend an absurd amount of time in your flat. But I will stay with Harry and Ron and Ginny because it makes my parents happy and because I think it’s too soon for us.” She concluded her words with a peck to his lips. 

“Do you have anything you would like to say?” She asked him, cocking her eyebrow. He shook his head. 

“I’m alright with that. Just promise you’ll visit.”

“No, I’m sure that visiting my boyfriend, whom I love, in his posh London flat will be awful and something I simply can’t promise.” She tittered sarcastically. He leaned down and bit her ear playfully, a wicked glint in his eye.

“Not now!” She scolded, smacking his arms off from around her waist, “We’ve got class soon!” 

“Fuck class,” he leaned in for a kiss, which she eagerly returned. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, thank you for reading! 
> 
> i'm here to announce i will be taking a little break from this story. i will be having finals next week and immediately going overseas after that. the next update should come around mid-december. see you then! 
> 
> and thank you all for the lovely comments + well-wishes :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back my friends!

“Mmm, Draco,” Hermione whined, pushing him away from where he had wound himself around her, “we have to study.” 

Reluctantly, he let go of her and gathered the books she had spread out in front of her in his arms. 

“Let’s at least go somewhere more comfortable. I can let you into the Slytherin common room. Anywhere is better than here,” he said disdainfully of the chilly and rather dull school library. She slapped his arm lightly for his statement, but agreed and followed him out of the library. 

The common room was mostly empty, what with it being a Saturday, and many students out in Hogsmeade. Hermione, however, has insisted on remaining in the castle to revise for their N.E.W.T. exams which were about 2 months away. His final task in the tournament was only a month away. Unfortunately, unlike the other 2 tasks, he had no information about what the task would be. 

Hermione and he settled on the floor by the fireplace and began their revision. He enjoyed studying with her because she was a fantastic student and study partner, aside from the fact that he loved spending time with her. 

After about an hour of uninterrupted revision, he turned to her. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but it slipped my mind. I got a letter back from an Alchemy master who lives up in Cambridge.” 

“Oh,” Hermione turned her eyes to him, widened with pleasant surprise, “That’s wonderful, Draco. What did he say?” 

“He wants to meet me. To talk about a potential apprenticeship.” 

Hermione reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. “Do your parents know.” 

“My mother, yes. My father, no. I’m meeting him for dinner tonight in Hogsmeade.” 

“Oh,” she paused in thought for a moment, trying to figure out the appropriate response to give him. “Have you decided how you’re going to tell him?” 

“About that,” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Slytherins are not known for our courage. Would you be willing to join me? I could use your support.” 

“Sure.” She smiled, reaching up to kiss him softly. “I think we could all use a break from studying and if this is important to you, it is important to me too.” 

“I appreciate it. Thank you, Hermione.” He said tenderly, tucking some of her unruly hair behind her ear. 

“But for now, I think we should head for lunch,” he rose and offered his hand to help her up. 

Draco had to meet his father at dinner at 6 in the evening, fully taking advantage of the later curfew put in place for the students returning for their ‘eighth year’. Hermione had agreed to meet him at the portrait hole to her common room at 5:30, which gave her about 20 minutes to get ready. Always eager to make a good impression, he knew Hermione needed the time to get herself ready and gain some confidence to meet his father. Something he believed was utterly unnecessary, as she did not need it nor did his father deserve any effort on her part, but he would do his best to support her. His parents were not easy people and Hermione’s willingness to accommodate them despite everything left him with no other option. 

She emerged from the portrait hole at 5:30 on the dot, dressed in a simple dress and sweater under her robes. Her hair had been tamed somewhat and he noticed some light sparkle on her eyes and a berry colour on her lips. 

“Hi beautiful,” he said cheekily. She scoffed at him despite a blush and took his proffered arm. They walked in silence to the restaurant Lucius Malfoy had selected for his dinner meeting with his son, enjoying the crisp air and the sight of Hogsmeade at dusk. 

Once they entered, they noticed that Lucius had rather the same idea as Draco; Narcissa sat next to him, as elegant as ever. She beamed as soon as she saw her son enter, and beckoned Hermione and him over with a wave of her hand. 

“Draco, it’s so lovely to see you, darling. And Miss Granger, thank you kindly for joining us.” Narcissa greeted happily. Lucius made a noise in agreement of her sentiments but said nothing himself. 

Once their dinner orders had arrived, Narcissa diverted the conversation from the pleasant small talk they were having to the subject hanging in the air. 

“Lucius my love,” she dabbed at her mouth delicately with her napkin, “I believe our dragon has something to tell you.” 

“Mother,” Draco grumbled at the nickname, but cleared his throat and squared his shoulders as he faced his father. “Yes, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“I am interested in pursuing a full-time Alchemy mastery upon graduation. I am in contact with a master who has agreed to meet me to discuss this further.” Said Draco evenly.

“I see,” Lucius replied flatly.

Narcissa, astutely recognising the tension rising between her son and her husband, intervened. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re looking to expand your horizons, Draco.” 

“Or, he’s wasting his time with a foolish endeavour. Malfoy sons are involved in the business. There is nothing else to it.” Lucius snarked. 

There it was, thought Draco miserably. He tensed noticeably and Hermione reached under the table to give his thigh a squeeze of support, while her gaze focused on him. 

“I never said I wouldn’t join the business afterwards,” protested Draco, but he knew how weak his voice sounded. 

“Then what is the point in taking up this senseless endeavour?” Lucius pressed, setting down his cutlery and fully focusing on his son. 

“It’s something I like and I want to do,” Draco reiterated. 

“He’s still young,” Narcissa chimed in, “I think it would be good for him.” 

“You know,” Lucius said lowly, “I thought that we had given you enough freedom after everything. Bought you a flat in Diagon Alley. Let you be with your Muggleborn girlfriend however you wished. Now you want to break tradition. The next thing I know, you’ll say you want to marry her.” 

Hermione fought the urge to shrivel under the icy silver gaze of Lucius Malfoy, choosing instead to sit up straighter. She faced him head on, keeping her face neutral, as though to challenge him. 

“I do. Sometime in the future.” Draco gritted out. Hermione, Narcissa and Lucius all reacted in shock. 

“Draco,” Hermione warned, afraid that this would turn into a blown out fight between father and son. Chancing a glance over at Narcissa, she was surprised to find a touch of delight and pride in her eyes. 

“I forbid it.” Lucius snapped. 

“Then, I have nothing left to say to you. If I have to leave this family in order to be happy, then I will.” Draco spoke resolutely. He made to stand up and leave but Narcissa motioned for him to sit back down. 

“The both of you are being ridiculous.” She chastised. 

“Draco, you will pursue your Alchemy mastery, but you know that we need you on board at Malfoy Enterprises when you’re done.” Her gaze sharpened and she turned to her husband. 

“Apologise now.” She threatened. 

“I am sorry for raising my voice at you like that. The both of you.” Lucius grumbled sourly. 

“Our son is happy with Miss Granger, the happiest I’ve seen him.” Narcissa scolded Lucius. “As his father, you would be a fool to deny him this happiness. I have come to accept Miss Granger’s heritage- come to accept that there is nothing wrong with it and that we need to let go of our silly beliefs. She’s a remarkable young woman, and I am so proud of Draco for securing such a brilliant witch.” 

“You will accept them, Lucius.” Her voice was icy. Even Draco was taken aback. He had heard his mother defend him against his father before, even heard her disagreeing with him, but never heard her so menacing before. 

“Give me some time,” an unhappy, but defeated Lucius turned to Draco and Hermione. 

“Thank you father,” Draco acknowledged through his disbelief. Hermione echoed his sentiments. 

“Now I believe we have the rest of this family dinner to enjoy,” Narcissa continued warmly. 

After dinner, Hermione and Draco excused themselves to make their way back up to the castle. 

They held hands as soon as they exited the restaurant, embarking on a slow stroll up the Hogsmeade High Street. 

“Your father seems really different from the last time I saw him.” Hermione remarked carefully, curious but hesitant to upset Draco. 

“Well, the last time, he was still recovering from his trial. He looks better now. And besides, if there’s one thing Lucius Malfoy cannot stand is change. That gets a rise out of him more than anything else would. He was okay with me living elsewhere as long as I did everything else according to family tradition.”

“But I think our family tradition is rather antiquated. A fact you,” he lifted her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss on it, “have not failed to remind me.” 

She giggled, “Well, I am a very progressive person, Draco. It’s what you signed up for.” 

His eyes, brimming with emotion like molten silver, turned to her, “Happily. I love you for all that you are. And I’m quite eager to hold on to you. To never let you go.” 

She swallowed, turning to him with uncertainty all over her features. “Was that talk about marriage true then? Is that what you were trying to tell me when you asked me to move in with you?” 

“Yes. I really only see my future with you in it. I want to spend forever with you. If you’ll have me,” he answered bravely. His heart skipped a torturous beat when she did not answer him.

“This isn’t a marriage proposal right?” She asked, frowning slightly. 

“No, Merlin, no! I know it’s too soon for that. But I want you to know how serious I am about you. You’re it for me, Hermione” Draco stopped and turned to face her, his free hand reaching for hers. 

“Oh Draco,” Hermione beamed at him, “I feel the same way. But you’re right. I want to get married, eventually, but after I graduate and spend some time working. I have a 5-year post-graduation plan I intend to follow through on!” 

“Of course you do,” he laughed.

* * *

Despite having their N.E.W.T.S just around the corner, and Draco facing his final task as well, he had persuaded Hermione to continue to help him with his spellwork. They were in the Room of Requirement, which had changed into a space quite like the one Dumbledore’s Army had used. Hermione was guiding Draco through the Patronus charm again. 

“ _ Expecto patronum _ ,” Hermione said and an otter made of blue light trotted about, nuzzling her palm. Draco watched in awe at the marvel of magic she had once again displayed. 

“Remember,” she instructed, “your happiest memory at the forefront of your mind.” 

Following her actions, he tried. He was happy to see a ball of blue light shoot from his wand, but it had not taken on the animal form he was hoping for. The light went on for a moment unwaveringly before flickering away slowly. 

Hermione clapped her hands excitedly. “That was amazing, Draco! You’ve made so much progress.” 

“I was hoping it would take on the animal form,” he muttered rather dejectedly. Hermione found amusement in his reaction because she snorted and cupped his cheeks with her hands. 

“It takes time, like I keep telling you. Even I took months. Harry took months. Draco, this is one the most difficult pieces of magic to master and you’ve made amazing progress already. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” 

“You’re right,” he smirked, tugging her into his chest for a hug. 

“I honestly never had any hope of besting you. And Potter has always been a natural at DADA. It can’t be helped.” 

Hermione made an unintelligible sound of mock frustration into his sweater. But he resolved himself to practise. He wanted to show her that he could also conjure a Corporeal Patronus. 

When Draco made it back to his dorm room that night, he thanked the stars that it was still empty. Theo was probably holed up somewhere studying, while Blaise was holed up somewhere doing the opposite.

Draco wondered what animal form his patronus would take on. His first thought was a dragon. It was after all his name. He thought he would suit something ferocious, something cool, no matter how much he knew his friends and family thought otherwise. He wondered what Hermione thought would be the best animal form for his patronus. A sour thought that it could be a ferret sent a weird shiver down his spine. God forbid, or he would have to be stuck with it forever. 

Or not forever, if he recalled correctly. Patronuses could change. Maybe he would have an otter patronus someday? He was not too put off with the idea of his patronus complementing Hermione’s. In fact, he was rather pleased with the idea. 

He was suddenly all the more determined to get it right. He was going to work on his patronus and show it to Hermione when he was ready. Heeding her advice, he decided to work on perfecting the use of the charm such that he could produce a steady stream of the blue light. 

He was rather successful that night, so after practising the charm a few times, he went to bed. 

Draco kept at it for the next week, practising the charm in every spare moment he had. It had taken him about 3 weeks to get it, but he finally got his Corporeal Patronus form. 

“ _ Expecto Patronum _ ,” he said into the darkness of his bedroom, having already put up a  _ Muffliato _ so that Blaise and Theo did not hear him. A jet of blue light shot from his wand and morphed into a dragon who stalked around the room, waking Theo and Blaise with its brightness. 

“Mate,” grumbled Theo, who leaned over to his bedside clock to check the time, “are you really making a patronus at 3 in the morning?” 

Blaise grunted. 

“Yes!” Cheered Draco. “I have to show Hermione.”

He made to get out of his bed but Blaise got up and pushed Draco back down onto his bed. 

“In the morning,” he stressed. “Or Filch will catch you and you’ll get even more detention.” 

By the time morning came, Draco jumped out of his bed and sped through his morning routine leaving behind a dumbfounded Blaise and Theo. Running all the way to the Great Hall, he managed to catch Hermione just in time as she was about to enter through the doors. Grabbing her shoulders, he spun her around to face him. 

“I did it!” He exclaimed. “I have to show you!” He steered her to the edge of the corridor. 

“Did what exactly?” She asked, quirking a brow in amusement. 

“ _ Expecto Patronum _ ,” he said, feeling pride swell up in his chest when he watched the awe grow on her face at the sight of the dragon emerging from his wand and dancing around her. 

“Draco, you’re amazing!” She praised, hugging him tightly. 

“As if you expected anything less, Granger.” He smirked. 

“Don’t ruin it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I just came back from London, where I went to the WB studios and saw CC ! squeeee! on a more related note, i have the rest of the story mapped out. i plan to write another 3 chapters and then wrap up. i'm excited to see where this goes and i'll see you guys next week!


	17. Chapter 17

The week before the final task flew by. Draco was assembled in the Great Hall with the other Champions, standing up with Professor McGonagall at the head of the teacher’s table. The tables had been pushed to the side where all the other students were seated, spectating the event. He spotted Ginny and Neville sitting with Theo, Blaise and Pansy. He noted that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had come back to watch the final task. While Harry and Ginny seemed preoccupied with each other, it amused him to see Pansy squeezing Weasley’s hand out of worry for Draco. Weasley looked nonchalant, which was expected given that he was basically dragged there to support someone he did not even like. 

Suspiciously, Hermione was missing. Or at least he could not see her. Maybe she was sitting somewhere else. They had spent some time together just before breakfast, but as soon as she rose out of her seat in the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall had summoned her for a meeting in the Headmistress’ Office. Draco assumed it had something to do with her prospective careers and Professor McGonagall offering to put in a good word for her. He hadn't seen her since, although he only had a few hours of free time before he had to assemble with the other champions for the task. 

Professor McGonagall had just announced that their final task would be a race through the school to find the Triwizard Cup. Draco surmised that while he had a natural advantage, being that Hogwarts was his school and he knew the grounds better than the other two, they somehow found a way to make this task equally as challenging for him. The Ministry official had gone on to say that the Triwizard Cup would be hidden.

“It will be hidden where all the lost ones go,” said the official cryptically. 

Professor McGonagall had activated a counter, which would sound at the start of the race. Then he, along with the other Champions, would have to take off through the school in search of the cup. The first Champion to return successfully with the cup would be crowned the winner of the tournament. He was dreading searching the whole school grounds given the sheer size. But he was glad to be done with the godforsaken tournament. 

The counter had sounded. Draco took off with the other Champions hot on his heels. He was thankful for all the physical training his old Quidditch captain, Marcus Flint used to make them do, both at school and over the holidays. He whipped out his wand, gripping it determinedly in his hand. 

Just before the left the Great Hall, he turned back to give his friends a wink. 

Taking off through the corridor outside the Great Hall, he decided to check the classrooms on the first floor. 

Realistically, Draco knew that he was supposed to be more targeted with his search, choosing the places he was going to explore more economically. Even if he had infinite time, he knew that he would need ages to cover the whole castle. And then, there was also the surrounding grounds and annexed buildings like the Owlery or the Astronomy Tower. But, without any preparation beforehand, he had no idea where to look.

Draco was not like Harry Potter. Sure, he had more booksmarts but Draco could not think on his feet the way Harry Potter could. And rushing into this task unprepared, what with him having N.E.W.T.S. and no clue as to what this task would pertain, had only left him more discombobulated. He was completely alone in his search, the other 2 Champions having taken off somewhere unknown to him, but he did not want to expend any energy on contemplating whether that was a good or a bad thing. 

The self-deprecating part of his mind declared that he was making a mistake when classroom after classroom turned out empty. His search of the first floor appeared futile. 

When he threw open the door to one of the last remaining classrooms on the first floor, he stopped in his tracks when he saw some runic symbols written on the blackboard. This was a classroom used for History of Magic, and he knew Professor Binns never used runes in his class. 

He was never the best at deciphering runes, though he did find the subject interesting. Staring at it, he racked his brain for their meaning. It took him a moment to realise that they were a crude phoneticisation of his name. 

“Dray-Coh.” He called out, testing the syllables of the runes on the blackboard ahead of him. 

“Well done, Draco Malfoy,” a voice sounded from somewhere around him. He knew then that the room was charmed so that he could not tell the direction of the voice. 

“This is a task designed to test you as a wizard.” Explained the voice, which slowly grew higher in pitch. The voice was morphing then, Draco realised. 

“We have taken something from you. Something you treasure.” Said the voice, clearly a woman’s now. 

“You will need to save me. Draco, help!” Hermione’s voice spoke the next sentence. 

“Hermione!” Yelled Draco, afraid.

“They have me, Draco. I’m scared.” She continued, her voice a pitiful whimper. His heart kicked into overdrive and blood pounded in his ears. 

“You need to find me. You have two hours.” She said, and with a whoosh, an uncomfortable silence descended over the room. 

“Hermione!” He screamed. “Where are you? What have you done to her?” 

He received no answer in response. A panic engulfed him as he wondered what he was going to do. He had no idea what his next step ought to be.

“Think, Malfoy! Think,” he scolded himself, pressing a fist against his forehead. 

“Where would they keep Hermione?” He asked aloud. His eyes scanned the classroom, looking desperately for clues.

A book lay open on a table causing Draco to wonder how he had missed it. He made his way to the back of the classroom, where the book lay. Picking it up, he noticed it was just a standard History of Magic textbook. He scoffed at his dashed hopes and was about to put the book down. When he shut the book, he noticed some gold dust on the cover. Something in his mind screamed at him to blow it off the book, so he did.

A version of Hermione, made of the gold dust appeared before him. 

“You will need to find me. Draco, go where all the lost things are. Where you went when you did not want to be found.” She said, before disappearing. 

Bewildered, Draco scrubbed his hands over his face. He was not the type to hide in school, often strolling about proudly like he owned the place. And much of this year was spent with Hermione, so he could hardly say he was lost. The last time he actively hid in the school would be in Sixth Year, when he was a lost boy trying to keep his family and himself from being murdered. 

Bingo! He thought. 

The Room of Requirement. 

Of course they would put Hermione in such an elusive place. The room only appeared to those who needed it. What often went unmentioned was that a very single minded focus at the front of your mind, even if just for a second, was needed to summon the room. A type of focus that would be difficult in his panicked state of mind. 

He rushed up the Room of Requirement, relieved to see neither Amelie nor Alexander already there. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and pictured finding Hermione in the centre of his mind. Opening them, he nearly sagged to the floor in relief when the ornate door of the room of requirement appeared before him. He rushed in without a spare thought, jaw dropping to the floor as he noticed dozens of doors in front of him. He had no idea which one would lead him to her. Or if he would find her before it was too late. 

Going with his gut feeling, he opened the first one to his left. He was lucky that his feet were rooted deeply to the ground, as the door opened into an abyss of the midnight sky. The next one opened into the middle of the Black Lake. Shutting the door, he scanned the other doors in the room. There must have a clue on the decorations or design of the door. 

A simple door a little further down was the one he attempted next. Inside, he found his worst fear materialise. Literally, a Boggart appeared in front of him in the form of the Dark Lord.

A teasing smile on his lips, “Why, it’s the young Malfoy. Draco,” said the Dark Lord in a nonchalant voice, belying his cruelty, “are you looking for your little Mudblood bitch?” 

Draco sucked in a breath of air, paralysed by fear. He desperately tried to summon the courage to perform the  _ Riddikulus _ charm but he could not. He had never got around to performing his in class, with Lupin cutting it short because of Harry Potter. 

“You see, Draco,” continued the Dark Lord, “she’s already dead. Gave a good fight, the little thing, but she was no match for me.” 

The Dark Lord smiled coldly, “You’d better watch yourself more, Draco. I’d hate for your mother to share the same fate. You’re not performing up to my expectations.” 

“ _ Riddikulus _ !” Said Draco, wand pointed at the boggart. However, the creature did not disappear. The Dark Lord’s form continued to hover there, mocking him, frightening him. 

“ _ Riddikulus _ !” Draco tried the spell again, this time with more conviction. To his delight, the Dark Lord transformed into a cat and he was able to shut the door on the boggart. 

Draco tried to calm his erratic heart down. He paused for a moment, reminding himself that he had to find Hermione. He paced through the room searching for the right door. He paused at an old looking door that was overrun with moss and vines twining all over it. 

This was the door, he surmised. After all, Hermione’s wand was made with vine wood. It was a close enough clue that made him reasonably confident. He tried opening the door, but it was locked. 

“ _ Alohomora _ !” He tried, but to no avail. 

A nameplate on the door caught his eye. It was a rusted gold plate, but it read ‘ _ Granger _ ’ on it. He then realised that this door was on a property that belonged to her family, who were all Muggles. So he had to open the door the Muggle way. 

“ _ Accio _ Key!” A key shot out from the foliage covering the door and he unlocked the door. To his utter immense relief, Hermione sat on a sofa, reading in front of a roaring fireplace. 

“Hermione,” He called out, scrambling over to her. 

“Draco!” She beamed. Getting out of her chair, she went over to meet him, catching him in a giant hug. 

Swallowing down his parched mouth, Draco ran his hands over her face in worry. “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” 

“Who did?” She asked, confused. 

“I heard your voice. You told me you were scared. You asked me to come here to find you.” He was adamant. 

“No, I never said any of those things.” She frowned. 

“Professor McGonagall told me to come wait here in this room. All of the Champions had to find a schoolmate who was close to them. Then we would help you guys find the Triwizard Cup. You didn’t know?” 

“No,” he sighed, relief coursing through him, “nobody told me this.” 

“It’s not right that they lied to you and made you believe I was in danger. It’s cruel. I was completely safe, Draco.” 

“Yeah,” He was bewildered. He had spent the better part of the past few hours worried out of his mind for her, only to find it out that she was completely unharmed. It was strange. 

“C’mon,” she began tugging him through the door and back into the Room of Requirement, “let’s help you win this tournament!” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the third task will be continued in the next chapter... and we will wrap up the tournament there too! the final 2 chapters will be focus on other stuff (which i have come to realise i prefer writing over the tournament lool) 
> 
> thank you for all the kind reviews! i haven't replied to every single one but i'm reading them all and it warms my heart <3


	18. Chapter 18

Draco and Hermione left the Room of Requirement but stopped in the corridor right outside. 

“We need a plan. Do you have any clues? Any idea where they might have hidden the cup?” She asked determinedly. 

“The official said it would be where ‘all the lost ones go’.” Draco recited. 

“What?” Gaped Hermione, unsure of how to proceed with their clue. She paced the corridor in thought and turned to him.

“You’re sure that’s what he said?” As though she didn’t believe him. 

“Yes!” He grumbled. Frustrated, he stared at her she paced up and down furiously, trying to find the answer for him. Normally, he would try to make more of an effort, but he was drained after the spectacle that just occurred. Also, he knew that it was best to leave the thinking to Hermione- no one else would come close. 

“Lost, lost, lost,” she muttered as she racked her brain for the answer. 

“How about Filch’s office?” He wondered. “That’s basically an unofficial lost and found room.” 

“My instinct says no. Hmm,” she hummed, rubbing her chin in thought and looking out of the nearby window. 

“Where else would lost things go? Can’t be the Room of Requirement,” she mused. 

“He said ‘lost ones’ right?” Hermione blinked, snapping her face to meet his. He was taken aback by the intensity of her eyes as her brain ticked away. 

“Yes.” 

“Draco,” she gripped his shoulders and shook him hard, “We should be looking for where lost  _ people _ go, not things.” 

“Oh,” he said dumbly. Not registering much else besides her brilliance and how hard her grip was. 

“As for lost people, I can think of a few places. I personally like to go to the-”

“Library,” he couldn’t help but interject, smirking. 

“Yes,” she said tartly, “I like to visit the library. And sometimes, I like to read in my dorms. Sometimes, I like to go see Professor McGonagall and talk to her. Which is kind of hard now that she’s always holed up in her office.” 

“I don’t see how I could be of much help,” Draco scoffed. “The last time I felt lost was when I had to kill Dumbledore. But I guess I was literally lost as well- I went looking for him in his office but he wasn’t there. But, now I’m well aware of where I stand in this world.” 

“Draco,” she groaned exasperatedly, “did you not hear what you just said?” 

“No, what did I say?” 

“You also just said you went to the Headmaster’s- well, Headmistress’ now- office when you felt lost. Because you had to.” She explained. Draco stared at Hermione for a moment before allowing himself to process her words.

“Then, what are we waiting for? We’re wasting time here!” He scolded her in mock frustration, running off in the direction of Professor McGonagall’s office. Hermione ran after him, determined to keep pace despite his significantly longer strides. 

Draco skidded to a stop in front of the gargoyle guarding the office, just noticing that Amelie, his competitor from Beauxbatons, was standing there next to a tall boy with chestnut hair. 

“My- uhm, boyfriend,” she gestured to the boy. 

“My girlfriend,” Draco said, gesturing similarly to Hermione, who was panting beside him. 

“What’s the password?” Hermione asked, walking up to the gargoyle. 

“I do not know. We have tried several times but the gargoyle is not moving!” Amelie ground out frustratedly. 

“There’s no clue?” Asked Hermione, looking around for a scrap of paper. Or anything that would suffice as a clue. Draco had stepped forward, joining her in her search. 

“Champions!” A voice boomed overhead. 

“We congratulate you on finding your loved ones and making it this far. You will now enter the Headmistress’ office where you will begin your search for the cup.” 

The gargoyle turned, revealing the large spiralling staircase that led up to the office. Draco and Amelie charged forward, running up the staircase. Hermione and Amelie’s boyfriend followed suit. 

Professor McGonagall stood at the top of the staircase, with Madame Maxime, Viktor Krum and the ministry official flanking her.

“The cup is hidden somewhere in my office. The first to find it will be crowned the winner. You have 30 minutes. Good luck!” She said sternly, but there was a twinkle in her eye as her gaze swept over Hermione and Draco. 

Draco immediately began his search near her desk. It was obvious that the office had been charmed and repurposed as a cluttered workspace meant to hide an object. It bore none of Professor McGonagall’s usual tidiness or personal belongings. 

In a haphazard fashion, Draco yanked open all the desk drawers, muttering under his breath as they all turned out empty. Hermione, meanwhile scanned the room to look for anywhere the cup might have been hidden. Her eyes stopped on an old copy of ‘Quidditch Through the Ages,’ sitting on a stool next to the fireplace, beside a mug of spiced wine. A tartan blanket lay on the adjoining armchair. 

“Draco, I think it might be there. It’s the most obvious place in the room- the most ‘McGonagall-iest place. She must have hidden it there.” Hermione whispered. 

“Fine,” Draco groused, and rose to check by the fireplace. Amelie and her boyfriend noticed he had moved over and followed suit. 

A dull glint was visible just by the rug before the fireplace. Draco went to pick up the object and grinned when he saw a golden snitch, albeit slightly rusted and old. Dusting it on his robes, he handed it to Professor McGonagall. 

“I think you dropped something, Professor.” He smiled victoriously. As soon as the snitch met her palm, it fluttered and opened. Professor McGonagall proffered the snitch to Draco, who withdrew a shrunken down cup from the centre of the snitch. 

“ _ Engorgio _ !” He pointed his wand at the cup, beaming proudly when the cup enlarged in his hands. Hermione had leapt into his arms, which he wrapped around her tightly. 

“Oh, sorry,” she mumbled awkwardly to everyone else in the room when she pulled away from Draco. Professor McGonagall visibly bit back a smile and instructed them to follow her to the Great Hall. Draco and Hermione walked right behind her, the ministry official and Viktor Krum. Amelie, her boyfriend and Madame Maxime followed behind them. 

Upon their re-entry into the Great Hall, everyone erupted into cheers. Professor McGonagall took the podium in only the commandeering way she could and silenced the crowd. 

“In first place, we have the Champion from Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy.” She announced. She then went on to announce that Amelie came in second and Alexander was third because he did not manage to complete the first half of the task. 

“We want to congratulate everyone who took part in this wonderful tournament with us. A most sincere appreciation to our friends from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.” Continued McGonagall. “Tonight, there will be a feast at the Great Hall to celebrate.” 

Everyone was dismissed so that elves could prepare the feast. Draco, who still gripped the cup in his hands, was surrounded by his friends. Blaise had jumped on his back and congratulated him. 

“Well done, mate.” Potter offered his hand, “Can’t have been easy.” 

Draco shook his hand, sharing a moment with his former enemy.

“Yeah, I suppose. Well done, Malfoy.” Weasley congratulated him with a hard slap to the back. Though Draco stumbled slightly from the force, he saw an amused glint in Weasley’s eyes. He decided not to return the favour. Pansy also shot him a warning glance from where she stood, shoulders brushing with Weasley’s. 

“I’m just so fucking glad that’s over,” Draco laughed. Potter joined him in his laughter, most likely agreeing with his sentiments. The rest of his friends joined him, cracking jokes about his performance in the tournament as they walked out of the Great Hall. They were headed to their respective dormitories to freshen up before the celebration feast. 

Draco stopped in his tracks when he heard a throat clearing followed by a cough somewhere in his vicinity. His father stood, hands wrapped around the head of his cane, his mother next to him, her hand tucked into his arm. 

“Draco,” his mother beckoned. 

All of his friends had quickly dispersed, with the Slytherins, Hermione and Potter quietly greeting the Malfoys before leaving him alone with them. 

“Mother, Father, I didn’t know you were coming,” he stated. 

“Come, Draco. The Headmistress has kindly organised a room for us to wait for you. We can talk there. There’s more privacy,” his mother declared. 

“When did you get here?” He asked as soon as they entered the room, closing the door behind them. 

“Before you began the task. We were advised to stay away from the students, so we waited in here.” His mother answered. 

“You weren’t allowed in there?” His eyebrows knitted together. 

“Yes. It was thought our presence might distress the students.” His father supplied, lips curling in displeasure. The loss in reputation their family faced after the war had been a serious sore spot for his proud and arrogant father. 

“Nonetheless, we insisted that we come to see you.” His mother began running her hands over his face and chest, trying to feel for any injuries. 

“You’re not hurt are you, Draco?” She asked, concerned. 

“I’m fine, Mother,” he waved her off. 

“What did they make you do?” Asked his father. 

“We were supposed to look for the cup. But as I began searching for clues, I was told that Hermione was in danger and she needed saving. So I went to find her, though it turned out to be just part of the task and she was not in any real danger. Then the two of us had to look for the cup, which was hidden inside a Snitch in McGonagall’s office.” 

“I see,” his father drawled, “And they made you think Ms Granger’s safety was compromised?” 

“Yes, probably to test me.” Draco rolled his eyes. 

“That’s cruel,” hissed his father under his breath. 

“Well, it is what it is.” Draco announced resignedly, “The last tournament was in no way less barbaric, all the Dark Lord stuff aside.” 

“Yes, but I insist on having a word with-” 

“Father, it’s fine. Really. Hermione’s fine and so am I and that’s all I wanted. I didn’t really care about winning this thing anyway.” 

“We are so proud of you, Draco.” His mother beamed, pulling him in for a hug. 

“I suppose we should be heading back. I imagine you’d want to spend time with your friends before the celebration.” His father smiled softly at him. Then, in an entirely uncharacteristic move, he pulled Draco in for a hug. 

Hermione was waiting for him in the Slytherin common room when he entered. She was sitting on one of the sofas, talking to Pansy and Weasley, of all people, who looked too at-home in the dungeons. 

“Look what the Weasel dragged in,” smirked Draco when he went over to them. Predictably, Weasley turned red and Hermione and Pansy admonished him. 

“My parents just left,” explained Draco. He flopped down on the sofa, next to Hermione, slinging an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled up to him, resting her head back on his arm. 

“You’re lucky that you make Hermione happy, Malfoy,” warned Weasley. 

“Oh, come off it, Ron.” Hermione admonished. “If I wanted to, I’d have hexed Draco myself. And I won’t let you do anything to him, either.” 

“Where’s Potter?” Asked Draco, though he had noticed earlier that the most famous third of the famed trio was absent. 

“Probably snogging Ginny in some alcove somewhere,” Hermione mentioned. 

“Ew,” Weasley wrinkled his nose, “that’s my sister you’re talking about, Mione.” 

“You never let me call you ‘Mione’,” whined Draco, his nose coming to nuzzle at Hermione’s neck. 

“That’s because I don’t like it.” She fixed Ron with a pointed glare, “But  _ some people _ never learn.” 

“Oh,” Theo stumbled in through the entrance to the common room, taking in the sight of the four on the sofa. “We’ve swapped boyfriends now?” 

“Shut up, Nott,” Pansy snapped. She kicked his shin as he walked over and sat down on the chair facing them. 

“Heh,” Theo smirked, “maybe Weasley’s just the type of bloke who can handle you, Pans.” 

“If I’m being serious here,” Hermione added, “I think the two of you would be an excellent couple.” 

“Thanks, Mione,” mumbled Weasley self-consciously, earns turning red. 

“I happen to agree,” Pansy chimed in. Taking ahold of Weasley’s face, she planted a kiss on his lips. His arms wound around hers, as he deepened the kiss. 

“On that note, we should get out of here.” Draco sighed, getting Hermione to stand up with him. 

“You two go. I’d rather hang out with this couple than you two. So mushy and gross all the time.” Theo waved his hand dismissively at Draco. 

Draco and Hermione decided to spend some time in one of the alcoves overlooking the school grounds. 

Hermione had grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers. She tugged him towards her, capturing his mouth in a soft kiss. Smiling into the kiss, Draco met her warm eyes when he pulled away. 

“It’s finally over.” He whispered. 

“Yes,” her hands rose to tangle themselves in his hair. 

“Now I get you all to myself, with no distractions, or-”

“We have N.E.W.T.S coming up, Draco. Don’t you forget it,” she poked his chest.

“But first,” he murmured, "this," dropping his head back down to kiss her again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays to everyone! this week's update comes a day early because i'll be heading off on friday for a weekend away. see you all next week for the penultimate instalment. 
> 
> i hope you like this one even tho the actual tournament stuff was very rushed... but i absolutely struggled with it so :( 
> 
> thank you for all the kind comments <3


	19. Chapter 19

There was only a week left until they faced their N.E.W.T.S. Hermione, knowing full well how prepared she was, had only a healthy dose of exam anxiety, in addition to the anticipation and the desire to take the exams and just finish them already. Draco, meanwhile, was a little more anxious given that he could not spend most of the year preparing for the exams. Most of his free time was taken up by prepping for the tournament and actually completing schoolwork. Exam preparation was its own battle. 

Thankfully, he was dating Hermione. She had allocated blocks of time to tutoring him- or rather revising with him because he did not need tutoring in most of his subjects. Occasionally, Ginny or Neville would join in, eager to benefit from Hermione’s knowledge. His friends also would join them whenever they felt like they needed to reinforce their learning. 

As it turned out, Theodore Nott was almost as much of a polyglot as Hermione Granger, and could often take over her role as ‘tutor’ whenever she needed a break. Where Hermione combined a great deal of intelligence and knowledge with hard work, Theodore cruised along with his impeccable memory and encyclopaedic knowledge. It was only now in their last year had he begun to take more of an active interest in his studies, hoping to secure excellent marks on their tests. 

Hermione was not threatened, of course, that Theodore would usurp her spot as the top student because he was never bothered with achievements like that, nor did he have the will to work for it. 

Draco, however, felt a little threatened by Theodore. He was always one spot behind Theodore, who was second in their year since their first year. Though the gap between Theodore and Hermione was large, it did not change the fact that Theodore was the only one who could come close to rivalling Hermione academically. 

While Draco was not really bothered with beating Theodore or Hermione per se, at least not anymore, he still had every intention of showing Hermione that he worked hard and that he was capable of being an intellectual. 

It was more of a pride thing, he decided. To show Hermione that she could be proud of him, that he would work hard despite being handed everything on a silver platter. So he sat and worked on his studies diligently during almost all of his free time. 

He had a successful lunch with the Alchemy master, and he would begin his studies in July of that year. His mother had written him a heartfelt congratulatory letter, with a postscript by his father, who was slowly coming around to accepting his choices. 

Since classes had let out, giving them enough time to finish their revision properly, he had more time to spend with Hermione privately. Even if it was just sitting in the library or an empty classroom and revising. That day found them holed up in an empty classroom, without either of their friends with them, going through their Transfiguration essay plans. 

“Ugh,” groaned Draco, “let’s take a break.” 

“Draco,” chided Hermione, who didn’t even glance up from her scroll, “we just came from breakfast. Our exams are in a week.” 

“No,” he protested, “breakfast was three hours ago. We need to take a break or we’ll go mental.” 

“Lunch is in an hour then,” Hermione dismissed his idea, intent on going back to work. 

“Break,” he declared, hands grabbing her wrists to stop her from rolling up her parchment to read. 

With a huge sigh, she set her parchment down and looked at him pointedly. “Ok, now what?” 

“Let’s talk.” He smiled. 

“Talk,” she repeated dumbfoundedly. She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Are you always like this when it comes to exams?” Asked Draco.

“Like what?” 

“So hardworking. So intense.” 

“Yes,” she said tartly, “it’s how I maintain my excellent marks. You don’t think I got them off of dumb luck, do you?” 

“No, no,” he laughed lightly, “I know how hard you work. But I don’t want you to burn out. We can take breaks here and there. It’s good for us.” 

“I won’t burn out. I’m used to working this hard.” She defended. 

“I know,” he raised his hands in a placating manner, “but you’re bound to be prepared by now, Hermione. Relax a little. I’m asking you for an hour of your time, not your whole day.” 

“Fine,” she grumbled, though she was smiling. 

“I’ve missed you,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“How? We spend all our time together.” 

“Yeah- studying. I  _ miss _ you.” He pinned her with his pointed gaze. 

“Oh,” her mouth fell open as realisation dawned on her, cheeks going slightly pink.

“C’mere,” he murmured, reaching out for her. She moved over, straddling his lap. With a wave of her wand, she shut and locked the door of the classroom and put up a silencing charm. 

“It’s been too long since we’ve had time together,” he sighed into her neck. 

“It’s only been a few weeks,” she giggled.

“Like I said: too long.”

Draco’s hands gripped her hips as he ran his nose on the slope of her neck. Her hands were gripped around his shoulders, kneading away at all the stress he had accumulated over the year. They just basked in each other’s company for a few silent moments, savouring the touch and feel of having each other so close. 

Their romantic moment was instantly cut with his stomach grumbling. Pulling back with a sheepish expression, he helped Hermione down from his lap. 

“We should go for an early lunch, I suppose,” suggested Hermione. 

“What can I say? All this studying is making me hungry,” he grinned. 

She packed their things up with her wand. Standing on her tip-toes, she kissed his cheek and gave his ear a nibble.

With a smack to his chest, she smirked at his flustered expression. “Let’s go have lunch.” 

Knowing she had his full attention, she sashayed out of the classroom with an intentional sway of her hips. 

* * *

The exams, mercifully, came and went within two weeks. Hermione was left exhausted, desiring a nap above all else when she set the quill down upon the completion of her Theory of Charms exam. Draco, who had managed to leave the classroom before her, waited for her by the door. 

“We’re done,” he announced with a quirk of his lips. She took his proffered hand, twining their fingers together. 

“Yeah,” she smiled, “I’m so tired.” 

“Let’s go rest in my room,” he suggested. 

“Sure,” she agreed. Normally, she would have gone straight to her bed for a nap, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to sleep with Draco. By which she meant  _ sleep _ , and only sleep, because she was tired. Too tired to have the energy to do anything else. 

Draco and Hermione set their bags down beside his bed. Their shrugged off their shoes and undid their ties, sliding into either side of the bed. 

Hermione’s eyes fluttered shut when her head hit the pillow. Draco wound his arm around her, drawing her closer into him. 

“We’ll be graduating soon,” he whispered into her hair. 

“Mmm,” she mumbled sleepily. She peeked up at him through her lashes, fingers coming up to rest on either side of his jaw. 

“I could use your help with moving into my new flat. You’re very adept at magic, after all,” he ended his request with a tease. She pinched his cheek in response. 

“You only need to ask, Draco. Besides, it would give me a good opportunity to scope out my future home.” 

“Really?” He asked, looking down at her with his eyes shining. 

“Yes, I promise to help you with your move.” 

“No, I meant the part about the future home.” He asked hopefully. 

“Well, if we’re to be together forever as you’d have it, I’ll have to move in with you.” She said slowly, like she was explaining something to a child. 

“You mean it, then? Us being together from now on,” he pressed. He would normally take what he got and live with it, but he wanted to hear a declaration of commitment from her. 

“Yes,” she shifted so she was lying on her side, facing him. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Now, enough questions, Draco. I’m tired. Let me sleep.” She concluded their conversation. Turning so that she lay on her back, her hand grasped his arm that was around her waist. Her eyelids drew shut and she fell asleep, breath coming out in peaceful huffs. Draco pecked her cheek and settled down next to her, surrendering to sleep himself.

It was only days later that one of Draco’s worst fears materialised. Hermione had received a letter by owl post from her parents. She read it out to him, holding her letter in one hand and her piece of toast with butter and jam in the other. With the exams over and the general encouragement of inter-house unity, there was a more relaxed atmosphere among the student body. And today was graduation day for the Seventh and Eighth Years- students were all mixing about and sitting at whichever table they so pleased. 

As it happened, he joined Hermione, Neville and Ginny at the Gryffindor table. Her idiot friends, Potter and Weasley, had come. And not so curiously, to Weasley’s left, sat Pansy, who was wiping the crumbs from his mouth. 

“Do I want to know?” Asked Draco wryly. 

Pansy shot him a scathing look. 

“Draco!” Scolded Hermione, whacking his hand with her letter. “Pay attention.” 

“As I was saying,” she cleared her throat and continued reading, “my parents want to meet you. Tonight, for a graduation dinner in Muggle London.” 

“Um,” Draco replied, dumbfounded as to what to say.

“Please say you’ll come with me.” She batted her eyelashes at him and any resistance building up within him caved.

“Alright. Is there a dress code?” 

“Smart casual. Just a shirt and a blazer would do,” she smiled. He knew his witch enjoyed it greatly whenever he attempted a hand at Muggle fashion, though he did not know exactly why. 

“You’re going to be fine,” Potter chimed in, uninvited, “Hermione’s parents are great.” 

“How do you know?” He asked, wary. 

“I’ve been her best friend since we were eleven, mate. I’ve met her parents. Several times.” Potter smirked. 

“What are they like?” Draco asked, aware that Hermione and Ginny had both focused their attention on the weird flirting going on between Pansy and Weasley. 

“Her dad, Richard, is quiet and kind of scary. But she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, so he’s the one you’ll have to impress. Her mum, Helen, is amazing. Super warm and funny.” Potter smiled, obviously fond of Hermione’s parents. Draco had vague recollections of her parents from the summer before Second Year, when he caught a glimpse of them at Flourish and Blotts. He decided then that he would have to toughen up and bite the bullet. Hermione met his (formerly) bigoted parents, who were otherwise difficult people. Meeting her parents was a necessary step for his relationship to go in the right direction and it was important to Hermione, so it was important to him. 

After their graduation ceremony, he headed to his dorm room to change from his school robes to more appropriate Muggle attire. Hermione would meet him at the entrance to her common room.

After picking her up, she Apparated the both of them to Muggle London, to an area she informed him was called ‘Knightsbridge’. He barely managed to take in any of the sights and sounds of the place before she whisked him off to the restaurant. 

From the look of the restaurant, Draco gathered that it was very posh, not unlike the restaurants he usually dined at with his parents. The maitre d sat them down with her parents and when he turned and left, Draco felt like he had been thrown to the wolves. 

“Drs. Granger,” he smiled politely, extending a hand for the both of them to shake, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

While her father shook his hand, Hermione’s mother pulled him in for a hug. 

“Draco,” she smiled kindly, “it is lovely to meet you as well.” 

She gestured for the both of them to take a seat. The entire table was preoccupied momentarily as they perused the menu and placed their orders for dinner. 

“So,” Hermione’s father, Richard, narrowed his eyes at Draco, “you’re my daughter’s boyfriend. I’ve heard all about you  _ and _ your parents. Blood supremacists,” he spat. 

Draco’s heart sank.

“Dad!” Hermione chastised angrily, “Draco is not like that anymore. Neither are his parents. I already told you. I wouldn’t be with him otherwise.” 

“You understand, Mr Malfoy, that given your past, I’m not keen on having your anywhere near my daughter.” Richard continued coldly, but his tone softened considerably when his gaze travelled over to his daughter, “But Hermione is her own person. I don’t make her decisions for her. I can only support whatever choice she makes the best I can.” 

“Draco,” Helen interjected, “While I wasn’t pleased myself when Hermione told us she was dating you, her letters informed me that you have changed a great deal.” Her eyes narrowed in an expression that was startlingly similar to that of her daughter’s, “But if you hurt her, I will not be the first one to hurt you. A one Mr Harry Potter has reserved that honour for himself.”

“Honestly!” Sighed Hermione, “I can take care of myself. And if he hurts me, there is no one Draco should fear more than me.”

“Oh, that I know.” Draco’s mouth quirked upwards.

“She slapped me straight across the face when we were in Third Year.” He informed her curious parents. 

“Hermione!” Helen gasped, scandalised. “We told you to never resort to violence.” 

But Richard bore a proud expression. 

“He was being a right prat, mum,” Hermione smiled at him with a reminiscent twinkle in her eyes, “and I was angry and stressed out so I took it out on him.” 

“I learnt my lesson then and there, Dr Granger,” he nodded at her mother, “to never cross Hermione. She is a formidable witch.” 

“That’s my Hermione,” beamed Richard. 

“Well, Draco, as long as you remember that, I can see you having a long and happy life with our Hermione. A toast!” Helen raised her wine glass, clinking it against all of theirs. 

“So can I,” whispered Draco, loud enough for only Hermione to hear, grinning as she hid her flushed cheeks behind her wine glass. 

* * *

It was unfortunate that Draco picked one of the hottest days in the year to move in to his new flat. Draco had managed to rope Blaise, Theo and Pansy in. Weasley tagged along, surprising everyone there, at the request of Pansy. 

Blaise, Theo and Draco openly gaped at Pansy and Weasley who were swinging their entwined hands back and forth. 

“We’re dating.” Pansy’s tone brokered no room for argument. 

“Ok,” Hermione pushed everyone along, “Let’s get started. Blaise, Pansy come with me. We’ll handle the second floor. Draco, Theodore and Ron, you three handle the first floor. When you’re done with the first floor, come upstairs to assemble the furniture for the bedrooms.” 

Together, they moved the shrunken furniture and decorations and numerous things that Draco had into his flat. Hermione had the sense to cast a cooling charm on the whole house before they started enlarging and arranging the furniture. 

As expected, Draco and Ron broke out into an argument in the kitchen while Theodore diligently worked by himself. Hermione, Pansy and Blaise were done with the entire second floor in record speed and rushed downstairs to break up the fight and to help. 

“Ron!” Hermione admonished, “What did you say?” 

“It wasn’t me, it was your boyfriend,” sneered Ron. 

“Draco,” Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Weasley said it wasn’t right for a bloke to have so many sets of fine china, so I might have made an insult about his financial situation,” Draco admitted. 

“Boys,” Pansy tutted, pulling Ron out of the kitchen by his ear. 

“How many sets of fine china do you have?” Hermione asked. 

“Six. One for each season, one full tea set and one with silver and gold inlay.” Draco waved his hand in the direction of the shrunken down sets. Hermione had to stop her jaw from dropping at Draco’s exorbitant display of wealth. 

“That is a lot,” she teased. 

“Oh yeah?” He cocked his brow, drawing her closer to him by the waist. 

“Mmm,” she murmured, eyes drawn to his lips and hands fiddling with his collar. 

“Oi!” Blaise yelled, “Can the two of you have the decency to at least wait until we’re gone?” 

“Alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” grumbled Draco, heading over to set up his living room. 

“Hermione,” asked Theo, “were you really getting hot and bothered over his china collection?” 

“What?” She spluttered, “No, I was not!” 

“Speaking of getting hot and bothered,” Blaise butted in, “Hermione and I decorated your bedroom very nicely. Perfect for when you guys have a night in. Very cosy.” 

“Thanks, Blaise,” Draco replied dryly. 

“If you three could refrain from discussing my sex life, we still have a living room to organise!” Snapped Hermione. 

“Where would you like the sofa, Hermione?” Asked Theo. 

“Why don’t you ask Draco?” She replied. 

“Because I know he doesn’t care. And besides, you’ll be living here soon enough.” 

“Fine. I think it looks nice by the wall over there. Draco?” She turned to him.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. 

“I can’t wait until you move in,” he murmured into her ear, pecking her cheek. 

“You guys are disgusting and I’m leaving! C’mon guys,” Blaise exclaimed, leading the group out the door since Draco’s Floo connection hadn’t been set up yet. 

“We have the place alone to ourselves now,” Hermione giggled. 

“What do you have in mind, Ms Granger?” Asked Draco, turning her around in his hold to face him. 

“Nothing much, I’m happy right here,” Hermione smiled and kissed him.

“Yeah, so am I. I’m happy,” he lightly bit her nose, “with you, Hermione.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's father's line is a ref to what Lucius said to Hermione in HP2! 
> 
> i have decided to end the story here... i was thinking about doing an epilogue, but i think i have kind of exhausted my creativity with this one. i like where the story ends up and i think it still ties everything together.
> 
> i want to thank everyone who commented/left kudos/bookmarked this story! it always puts a smile on my face to read your comments.
> 
> i'm working on a few other wips but i think they'll be shorter than this one. it has been a journey,,, my first (complete?) fic in years. i loved writing this and i hope you guys like this final instalment :^)

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u liked it! the 2nd chapter should be out soon?? i alr have most of it written,,,, pls leave a review!


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